


Promises

by Forevermore_Fiction



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: #reader insert, #vic criss, #victor criss x Y/N Bowers, #x reader, Bowers Gang - Freeform, Derry, F/M, Fanfic, Henry Bowers - Freeform, IT 2017 - Freeform, Logan Thompson - Freeform, Patrick Hockstetter - Freeform, Stephen King - Freeform, belch huggins - Freeform, butch bowers - Freeform, derry maine, it fanfiction, victor criss - Freeform, victor criss x reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 13:16:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 61,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20601407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forevermore_Fiction/pseuds/Forevermore_Fiction
Summary: (Victor Criss x Henry’s Sister!Reader)Word Count: 61,155Rating: SFW (Mostly!)Requests: (I changed the request a bit, I hope you don’t mind!)Hey, I love your stories - you really are an amazing writer so thanks for sharing your talent with us :) and could you write a story where Vic falls for Henry’s sister who’s way too innocent for her own good and of course off limits for the boys, and he has just convinced her of a date but Henry interrupts it? (Sorry if this it too specific)





	1. Under These Unusual Circumstances

**Author's Note:**

> Word Count: 4,559  
Rating: SFW  
Warnings: mention of abuse, possessive behavior, underage drinking, talk about puberty, broken promises

[Promises playlist on Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/37Xho5aCZTlptlg66pyiMt?si=eAyGA0tZSQiZaAU1GmO3Sg)

  
You were playing with your shirt nervously, trying to pay attention to the fraying ends and think about how you desperately needed a new one. It was an old muscle tee, and it hadn't even been yours to begin with, so it was already too big, and the fabric was worn and faded, the once black color now closer to a light grey, and it was stretched so that one of the short sleeves always hung off one shoulder. Thinking of this, you absentmindedly pulled the sleeve up over your shoulder the cover your bra strap… that was something else you needed, a new bra. You only had the one, and you'd had it for two years, and it was too small… you wondered if your dad would be willing to spare some money if you explained that it was for _ girl things _.

It wasn't a particularly pleasant distraction, to think about your father's neglectful behavior. But it was the only thing you could think to focus on to take your attention away from the boy sitting so close next to you on your left. It had been so long since you and Victor had seen each other, that it didn't feel right to talk anymore. But you couldn't help the blush on your cheeks or the feeling of butterflies in your stomach you got from the way his knee brushed against yours every so often when the car would go over a bump. It was especially hard to avoid touching him when you had Patrick to your right, taking any chance he could to touch up against you.

“Y/N, you listenin’?”

You looked up, making eye contact with your older brother in the front seat, through the smoke of the lit cigarette between his fingers. “Huh?” you asked.

“I said, we're dropping you off at home, then we're going out,” Henry told you. You blinked. Belch had been nice enough to offer you a ride home after they 'ran some errands’, since you and Henry had been talking with him about something. The five of you had gotten out of school for Summer a few hours ago, and they had agreed, a bit reluctantly, to bring you along while they drove around town, yelling out at girls as they drove by and harassing the Hanlon kid. They had stopped at a store and Patrick had somehow managed to steal two cases of beer while you and Vic distracted the cashier by asking them to look out back for something. Now, you assumed, they were driving off to drink it to celebrate the beginning of Summer Vacation, ‘89. You hadn't thought he was actually going to be dropped off at home, and you crossed your arms, shifting a bit and frowning.

“I don't wanna be alone at home,” you tried.

He sighed a bit. “So where’dya want us to drop you?” he questioned, putting his cigarette back between his lips.

You blinked. “Why can't I come with you?” you wondered. He glared at you.

“Yeah, Hen, why can't she come with us?” Patrick teased, putting his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him. You punched him-- a little harder than you meant to --in the shoulder and he quickly let go, making you fall back against Victor. You mumbled an apology and sat back up.

“_ That's _ why you can't come,” he scoffed through his cigarette, glancing at Patrick. “You know Dad don't want you hangin’ with my friends.”

“Yeah, but you do stuff Dad don't know about all the time--”

“And half the time I get my ass kicked for it,” he snapped. “We're dropping you at home.”

“I'll sneak out,” you told him, sitting up a bit more.

“Fuck, Y/N, why you bein’ a little brat?” he groaned.

“Just let me come with you!” you insisted, sitting back.

“You wanna get us both killed?” he growled. You shrugged. “Fine. But if we get caught, and I get my ass beat, you're gettin’ it.” You smiled triumphantly, then felt your face heat up as you felt Vic shift a little next to you. “Why’dya wanna hang with us so bad anyways? You got friends of your own.”

You froze up a little and glared at him, seeing him smirk cruelly at you. You licked your lips and shrugged. “I don't like any of 'em. They never do nothin’ fun, they all wanna paint nails and do makeup and talk about boys and stuff,” you said, playing with your shirt again. You were saying mostly for the other three boys, since you knew Henry knew you were lying. “Plus, you guys have beer. Greta and all them always wanna sneak drinks, and steal their Mom's vodka, then think it tastes gross and mix it with a shit ton of juice and stuff.”

“Yeah, 'cause they're chicks, chicks drink shitty mixed drinks,” Henry reminded you.

“Well I don't,” you argued, although that wasn't completely true. You didn't want to seem too girly in front of Henry and his friends, you were trying to make a point, after all. “I helped get the beer, you just don't want me comin’ 'cause you don't wanna share. Also, I try and do other stuff with my friends, and they get all annoyed or scared and tell me it's like having _ you _ there.”

Belch started laughing from the driver's seat. Henry scoffed. “Maybe you should try actin’ more like a girl,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, you don't like sleepover talk? Don't like sayin’ what guys you think are cute?” Patrick laughed. “You can talk to me about it any time.” You flipped him off and sat back again, side glancing at Vic. He seemed to quickly look away from you, and you blushed. “Why don'tcha got a boyfriend, Y/N?”

“She ain’t allowed to get a boyfriend,” Henry answered for you.

“Says who?”

“Says our Dad. And says me,” he told him. You huffed. “What?”

“I'm only a year younger than you, you can't tell me what to do all the time,” you insisted. He rolled his eyes. “I can make my own decisions, same as you. Why can _ you _ screw around with girls, but _ I _ can't get with a guy?”

“You got someone in mind?” Patrick asked hopefully.

“Don’t matter. Y/N ain't even supposed to be _ lookin’ _ at guys, 'specially not _ you _ guys,” Henry told him shortly. “Y/N, if you're gonna hang with us, keep your damn mouth shut and do what I say, got it?”

“Really? I do that at home anyway,” you mumbled. Henry started talking to Belch about something you didn't quite understand, something about the place they were heading, you guessed. You took your attention off your shirt and looked down at your torn, faded jeans instead, and your dirty, used-to-be-white high tops.

You hated how Henry had to be so controlling over you. Just because he was a year older didn't mean he was smarter. And you really didn't appreciate him getting in the way of you dating guys. You had a hard enough time already, being known as his sister, but he would get ultra mean whenever it looked like a guy had a thing for you. It sucked that he wouldn't let you date his friends either, it wasn't like you hadn't known them almost your whole life. Especially Vic, you'd known Vic as long as you could remember… and you thought the way he had been bleaching his hair blond lately made him look so cute…

Vic was watching you through the reflection of the window. He also wasn't a fan of Henry making him off limits to you… the two of you had been really close up until about the time you turned twelve, then Henry had made it increasingly hard to see you… something about you becoming a woman or something, he had been too annoyed to listen to his whole excuse.

He could definitely see you becoming a woman. When you were twelve, you had just started budding breasts, but other than that, you had still had a rather boyish body that went along with childhood. The last time you had hung out had been at the beginning of that summer. When school came around that fall, you had looked a lot different. You were starting to get hips, and your chest was a lot more noticeable. He had just been kind of surprised at that point, but hadn't seen much of you for the rest of the year. By the end of the school year, as the next summer rolled around, he and Belch had come to pick Henry up from his house, and you had come out in a pair of shorts, and another muscle tee that you probably shared with Henry, and Vic had been in a stunned silence the whole time you talked to Henry. Whatever Henry had said about you becoming a woman was true. He could see a bra strap peeking out from under the muscle tee, and your rounded chest and hips were all woman to him (even though you were both fourteen at the time).

Looking at you now, it was different. It wasn't like you were an old friend he hadn't talked to in a while… it was like you were someone he used to know. Some developing girl that sent his teenage hormones crazy, and made his face flush and his thoughts run wild… and he wasn’t even allowed to look at you.

Belch stopped the car on the edge of a forested area, and took the keys out, getting out of the car. The other three boys followed, and you got out as well, on Vic's side. Patrick pulled out the two cases of beer from his side of the car, and pushed one at you.

“You want beer, little girl, you can help carry,” he told you, starting to walk into the woods.

You rolled your eyes and started following him and Belch. “I'm the same age as you, dumbass. I ain't no little girl,” you said shortly. You felt someone next to you as you walked, and looked up to see Vic.

“Here, I got it,” he offered, trying to take the beer from you.

“That's alright, I can carry it, it's not too heavy,” you tried. He took it right out of your arms and you sighed. “Thanks…”

He walked alongside you the rest of the way in silence, and you felt strange. You wanted to say something to him, but you didn't want to say anything in front of Henry…

Henry had his eyes on you, you could tell. You could always feel when he was watching you. You tried to think of what you could say to Vic that wouldn't sound too bad.

“I like what you've been doing with your hair,” you told him with a smile. He looked over at you quickly, then smiled a bit and flipped his hair out of his eyes a bit.

“Oh… th-thanks,” he said. He put the beer under his arm and ran a hand through his hair. “It turned a little yellow, just right here.” He held up a strip of hair that was more yellow than ashy platinum blond.

“That's alright. I could fix it for you if you want,” you offered. He looked surprised. “Yeah, I can just… borrow some toner from the drugstore, it's easy.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh,” you agreed. “What's your Dad think about you dying your hair?”

He gulped. “Thinks it's not something guys should do…” he mumbled, looking down.

“He's old, he doesn't know,” you told him. He glanced up at you. “He's just jealous, 'cause he's a pussy, and you're not. You're brave enough to bleach your hair, that takes guts.”

“Yeah… yeah, I guess,” he chuckled.

“And he's probably jealous 'cause now you're _ gorgeous _ and he's not,” you grinned. Vic laughed a little and you joined him, bumping your shoulders together gently. This was the way you remembered Vic. It wasn't awkward, or uncomfortable, he wasn't a stranger. The two of you laughed together, and talked as friends. You couldn't believe how easy it was to fall back into that place with him.

“Alright you two, enough flirting, hand over the goods,” Patrick said, grabbing the beer from Vic and you looked around as the group stopped, sitting around logs surrounding a little unlit fire pit.

“Not every conversation is flirting, Patrick,” she sighed. He just chuckled. “When did you guys find this place? Isn't that the Quarry right over there?” You looked over towards the cliff that dropped down to what you assumed was the water of the Quarry.

“Long time ago. Don't tell nobody about this, it's ours,” Henry told you. You rolled your eyes and sat down on a log next to Vic, smiling at him as he handed you a beer.

“Thanks,” you said, watching him a bit. The sun had started setting a little while ago, and Patrick got some kindling together and started a fire in the pit just as it started getting dark. Then he sat down on the other side of you.

“We're gonna talk just the same as we do when you ain't here. So don't get all pissy or offended or nothin’,” Henry told you, cracking open his can and taking a sip.

“I won't, you know I don't care,” you chuckled.

Belch nudged Henry. “I was gonna ask you, how'd things go with that chick? The brown haired one with the tits?” he asked. You rolled your eyes but smiled a bit.

“Eh, she was playin’ hard to get too much. Not worth my time anyways,” he explained.

“She's really not that hot, dude. I mean, other than the rack,” Patrick added. “Just hit up one of the Mussey twins if you wanna fuck.”

“Yeah, that's true, their older sister, too,” Belch agreed. “They're all cute, _ and _ they're down for anything, any time.”

“I a’ready got with all’a them, twice each,” he mumbled. “What about you guys, you gettin’ any?”

Belch shrugged, sucking down his drink. “I convinced Margie Sholes to give me head the other day during lunch,” he told him.

“I'm working on a few,” Patrick added. “I fingered the Marks girl during Math this morning. And I hit up Harriet Mussey for a quick fuck this last weekend.”

“Really?” you spoke up, leaning on your hand. They all looked at you. “This is what you guys do all the time? Try to sleep with girls?”

“Yeah,” Patrick grinned. “Nothin’ better than gettin’ laid.”

“Sure,” you chuckled, taking a sip of your beer.

“You ever slept with anyone, Y/N?” he teased, touching your knee.

“No one _you_ need to know about,” you scoffed, shoving him off.

“Wait what?” Henry snapped, sitting up. You rolled your eyes. “You've fucked somebody?”

“Yeah, dipshit, somehow, with you looking over my shoulder 24/7, I managed to get myself a sex life,” you scoffed.

Henry relaxed a bit. “Scared me… Dad would’a killed the both of us if you screwed around with somebody,” he mumbled.

“Sorry, take a joke, kid. What about you, Vic?” you questioned, looking at him. He looked over at you confused. “You gotten with anybody?”

The only reason you asked was because you hoped the answer would be no, you hoped he remembered some of the sweet things he had said when the two of you were younger, and had kept them at heart.

Patrick ruined those hopes quickly.

“Oh _ boy _ has he!” he laughed. Vic mumbled at him to be quiet. “Go on, Vicky boy! Tell her about your home run with that senior chick!”

You felt yourself blush, grateful that it was hidden by the fire. “A senior? How'd you manage that?” you wondered, feeling your heart clenching with jealousy.

He shifted uncomfortably. “Wasn't hard… just sweet talked her and stuff…” he shrugged.

Patrick scoffed. “_ Come on _ , dude,” he groaned, leaning over you and hitting him. He looked at you. “He'd meet her every day outside the locker rooms, and he'd walk her to class. But like, last month they'd skip class together and make out and stuff. And last week, he took her out, and she took him back to her place, and he got _ laid _, no condom or nothin’!”

“Seriously, Patrick,” Vic hissed. You looked over at him, and it was obvious that his face was bright red, even in the fire light.

You took a sip of your beer and looked at the flames. “You were workin’ on her for a while then,” you said shortly.

“Y-Yeah, I guess,” he agreed, turning his can in his hand nervously. “It's whatever, though, I don't even like her…”

“So you all just screw around with girls you don't even like?” you asked them. They shrugged, and nodded, except for Vic, who just looked down awkwardly. “That's fucked up.”

“Whatever, we're guys, we can do what we want,” Patrick grinned. You rolled your eyes and drained the rest of your can.

“Just because you're guys doesn't mean you can do anything you want,” you argued, standing up. You tossed your empty can on the ground in front of Vic and stepped over the log you had been sitting on.

“Where're you goin’?” Henry asked.

“I'm gonna walk around,” you told them, walking out into the woods, towards the Quarry.

Vic watched you worriedly. He really hated Patrick for bringing up his 'win’ with that girl. He hadn't wanted you to know about that. He felt bad about doing it but… the guys had been teasing him about not getting any. And they had started asking why he wouldn't try and get girls. And he couldn't let them know that _ you _ were the reason why he stayed out of everything like that.

“_ Oooh _, Vicky, I think she's jealous,” Patrick laughed. He shot him a glare, then looked down at the fire.

“She's not jealous, she's just…” he started. But he didn't know how to finish it. “She's not jealous.”

“Little Miss Bowers _loooves_ you,” Patrick continued, moving closer to him. “Little girl wants Vicky to kiss her broken heart all better.” He made fake crying noises, and Vic shoved him away. Patrick laughed, and Vic stood up, annoyed. “Are you gonna go sweep her off her feet, Prince Charming?”

“Can you fuck off, I'm going in the opposite direction,” Vic scoffed. “I don't wanna be around you right now, you're bein’ a dick.”

“Don’t take too long, Crissy,” Henry said, tossing his empty can into the small pile forming around the can his sister had left behind. “And stay away from Y/N. She’s really head over heels for you, and I’m supposed to keep her away from boys, don’t make it more difficult than it has to be.”

Vic felt his face heat up, then he started walking away briskly, pulling his jacket tighter around him. Without the fire, the Summer night air, was actually pretty cold. You must be freezing, in nothing but your thin old muscle tee… he wished he had thought to offer you his jacket before you got up and left.

He went down towards the water, pausing when he saw that you had found your way down there as well. You were sitting on a rock, your knees to your chest and Vic swore he could see you shivering from where he stood. He made his way down towards you, slipping a bit on his way down the hill but catching himself with his hand. You glanced up at him, and he saw you wipe you eyes quickly and uncurl your legs, looking away from him and grabbing a small rock from near the spot you were sitting. He made it down to where you were and stopped, looking down at you.

“Hey…” he tried.

“Hey.”

He hesitated, then took off his coat, a chill immediately running through his body as the cold air hit his bare arms. He cleared his throat a bit, sitting down next to you. He tried to put his jacket over your shoulders, but you jumped back and looked at him in confusion. He blushed.

“I uh… I thought you might be cold,” he explained. You felt yourself blush, and you looked down quickly.

“I'm fine,” you lied. “I'm used to the cold, my room doesn't have heat.” He gulped.

“Doesn't… mean you aren't cold,” he pointed out. You just shrugged, not looking at him. He took his jacket back quickly, holding it over his arm and bringing one knee up to his chest. “You okay?”

“Fine…”

Vic hesitated. “Really?” he pressed.

“Yeah. Totally,” you told him shortly, throwing the rock in your hand into the water with all your might. You looked a lot like Henry when you did that, he thought. The way your face twisted, your brow furrowed and your teeth bared with the force and rage you put into it. Then your face settled back to almost normal, your jaw tensed and your eyes downcast.

Vic felt his heart ache. He hadn't meant to upset you so badly… he wished desperately to make it up to you, but he had a feeling that that was easier said than done. “I'm sorry,” he started. You looked over at him. “I-If I upset you…”

“Why would you've upset me?” you scoffed.

“W-Well, you seemed to get mad when Patrick was talking about that girl I got with, and I felt really bad, I didn't want him to tell you about that,” he explained.

“You didn't upset me, kid. I'm just…” You tried to think of a good excuse. “To tell you the truth, none of my friends want me around anymore. Actually, Greta told me that we _ aren't _ friends anymore, so… the reason I wanted to hang out with you guys instead’a with my friends is 'cause I ain't got friends to hang out _ with _, so…”

“Oh…” he said, unsure of what else to say.

“But you guys got your own thing goin’, I shouldn't get it the way of it, and I was a little jealous for a second, and that's why I got mad. But it's whatever,” you told him.

“I uh… sorry,” he told you.

“It's whatever,” you repeated, lying back on the rock underneath you. Neither of you said anything for a moment then you sighed. “Remember when we were younger… like, ten or eleven? And you said you loved me?”

Vic felt his face go red. “Y-Yeah, of course I do,” he agreed softly.

“And you told me you were gonna marry me someday and you would never love anybody else?” you continued. He felt his body tense up as he recalled those words, remembered every promise he had made. “Said you'd wait for me too, said we'd be each other's first.”

“Oh, Y/N,” he said softly, realizing the full extent of what he had done.

“It's fine, Vic, I didn't expect you to remember. We were just kids, we were stupid then. We didn't know we weren't going to love each other forever…” you brushed him off, although the way your eyes glossed over and your jaw tensed again told him you weren't being honestly. He tried to touch your hand, and you quickly yanked it away. “Dude, I'm not even upset, I just… I thought you'd think it was funny.” You stood up quickly, and he frowned. He could see right through you and you knew it, but you smiled tightly down at him. “Let Henry knew I walked home, kay?”

“You're walking home? B-But it's cold…” he said, standing up. “I'll go, you should go back up to the fire, where it's warm.”

You rolled your eyes. “I'll be fine, tough guy. I don't need special treatment or nothin’,” you tsked, brushing dirt off your jeans and starting to walk away.

He felt his heart jump, and he hurried after you, walking next to you. “A-At least take my jacket--”

“Dude, can you just leave me alone?!” you snapped, the words coming out harsher than you meant them to. He looked taken aback, hurt even, but then he licked his lips and straightened up.

“Yeah, sure. Sorry. Just didn't want you gettin’ cold,” he said, trying to act like he wasn't upset. “I'll let Henry know you left.”

“Thanks,” you smiled tightly. He just nodded a little, and you nodded, starting to walk again. “Good to see you again, Criss, hope you have fun with your new girlfriend. Have a _ great _summer.”

“U-Uh yeah, thanks,” he said back, watching you watch away, towards a pathway. Once you had gotten out of sight, you groaned and covered his face with the jacket in his hand. He sat down on the rocks again for the next half hour, feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. You hated him. There was no denying it, he'd screwed up to the point of no return, and now he would never have a chance with you. Hell, _ Patrick _ had a better chance with you than he did now. He had almost gotten you back as a friend, too. He would give anything to go back to just a few hours ago, when you were laughing and smiling, and your shoulders had bumped together and he had felt like things could only get better and he might be able to win your love again. And now that was ruined…. Now you wanted nothing to do with him. He had never seen you get like that, you were usually fairly composed. At least… that's what he remembered…

He supposed it had been such a long time since he'd seen you, that you were really a completely different person now, you were almost a woman now. But you had waited for him… you had expected him to do the same and he had blown it, getting too caught up in his ego, and his need to impress his friends…

“Hey, Vic!” Belch called down to him. He looked up the cliff and stood up, wincing at the pain in his frozen joints, and he started climbing back up the hill. Belch grabbed his arm to help him up to the top, then rubbed at his arm. “You look frozen, man, you're almost turning blue…”

“What? Oh,” he gasped, quickly pulling his jacket on.

“Any clue where Y/N went, we're about to head out?” he asked.

Vic gulped. “She said she was walkin’ home,” he explained. Belch nodded and they walked back over to the fire, where Vic explained the same thing.

Henry tsked. “Brat can't even handle hangin’ with us. No wonder her friends dropped her,” he grinned. Vic felt some kind of crazy anger towards Henry that he'd never felt before. “You know she only wanted to hang out with us 'cause she ain't got no friends no more?”

“No kiddin’,” Patrick laughed. “They can’t handle her in her full bitchy form, I can’t blame ‘em.”

Henry laughed at this, and they started walking back to Belch’s car. Vic watched his friends make fun of you, and call you names, and it made his heart hurt. Henry would kill him if he stuck up for you, but…

It was killing him that the only person that seemed to care about you was him.


	2. Under These Unusual Circumstances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 5,334  
Rating: SFW  
Warnings: flashbacks, missing kids, mention of abuse, implied sexual abuse, possessive behavior

You stood in the shower for a while, appreciating the short little while that you'd have hot water. Dad always took a shower after work, so you wouldn't have to worry about him, and Henry tended to only shower once, maybe twice a week, once on Sunday, once on Wednesday or sometimes on Friday if he felt like it, and always at night. So you had the mornings to yourself to stand under the low-pressure spray. You stared down at the orange soap-scum-stained porcelain and held yourself gently, enjoying the feeling of the water running across your body. The first week of Summer vacation had brought unusually cold nights, and only the burning hot of the water could ward off the cold.

The last week hadn't only brought cold that you needed to wash away, but it had brought fear. You had mostly just stayed home, having nowhere to go, and no one to hang out with. Three days into vacation, Henry had come home looking frantic and sweaty, Belch and Vic not far behind him, looking just as overwhelmed.

“Where's Patrick?” you had wondered, only glancing at them while you did the dishes.

“Fuck, we was gonna ask you the same thing,” Belch said. You paused and looked at him.

“Why would I know where Patrick is?” you pointed out. He thought, then shrugged.

“'s Dad home?” Henry asked shortly. You shook your head tiredly, glancing at Vic warily. “Shit… okay… we need to call the police.”

You frowned and brought your attention back to him. “Why?”

“Patrick's missing.”

They had called the police, then left, going out to look for Patrick while you were instructed to wait by the phone. You finished doing your chores (and Henry's), staying in the same room as the phone, then sat yourself down on the chair nearest to the phone (but not Dad’s  _ never _ Dad's). The phone never rang, you didn't really understand why you had to sit by it, but you jumped up when the front door opened.

“Nobody called--” you started, then watched as Henry was thrown in through the front door, your Dad following behind him.

“I wanna know how you lost the damn knife,” your Dad insisted, grabbing Henry by the collar and pulling him so they were inches apart. You saw Henry try to stammer out some kind of response, but your Dad brought his fist to his stomach and let go of him, letting him fall to his knees, doubled over and holding his stomach. “You're a reckless punk, boy, you need to get your act together and start takin’ some kinda responsibility. Makes me wonder why I do anythin’ for you at all, if you're just gonna lose everything. I keep you under my roof, I give you food, I give you clothes, and you pay me back by loosin’ shit and gettin’ your friend killed.”

“W-Who’s dead?” you asked, trying to get his attention away from Henry. He looked over at you and sighed.

“Nobody’s dead  _ legally _ … that Hockstetter boy’s missing and you know… I'm tellin’ you, puttin’ up these missin’ kid posters and wastin’ police time and effort lookin’ for 'em is useless, everybody knows those kids’re all dead,” he scoffed, walking over to you. You looked down as he touched the back of your head gently. “Best you just stay inside this Summer and make yourself busy. Wouldn't wanna lose my baby…” You felt him kiss your head and you held still, keeping your eyes on Henry.

“I'll be alright, Daddy,” you told him calmly. Henry sat up slowly and took a few shaky breaths. His hand left your hair and he started walking towards his chair, and you let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding.

“You make dinner yet?” he asked.

“Yes, Daddy,” you said, taking the chance to quickly go to the kitchen and get out the plates you'd made up for Henry and him out of the oven. You heard the TV turn on and you set Henry's plate on the dining room table, then brought Dad's plate to him, handing it to him carefully and hoping to make a quick getaway. He grabbed your wrist before you could leave.

“Get me a couple beers, sweety,” he ordered, not looking up from the TV. You sighed softly and nodded, feeling him let go. You hurried over to the fridge and pulled out the case of beer, setting it down and starting to pull a few cans out. “Actually, honey, why don't you give me the whole case, I think I'm gonna need it tonight.”

You made quick, terrified eye contact with Henry, who froze as he stood up. Your Dad getting drunk could mean one of two thing would happen, and neither of you wanted to be around to let either scenario play out. But you set the cans back into the case and reluctantly brought the whole thing over to him, setting it on the coffee table in front of him, taking one can out and handing it to him.

“Thank you, baby,” he said, sighing a bit and taking the can from you. Before you could walk away he continued speaking. “Rena's coming over this weekend so you'll have someone to keep you company.”

You forced yourself to smile. You hated having to sit and talk with your Dad's overzealous girlfriend. There had to be some way to get out of it… “Um… I think Greta wanted me to hang out this weekend,” you lied. He glanced over at you and grunted.

“She'll be sad to hear that,” he mumbled.

“Yeah… maybe next time,” you tried, fidgeting with your hands. “Well, I think I'm gonna go to bed… if you don't mind…”

“You don't want to sit with me a while…?” he said sweetly. You hesitated.

“I-I think I'm gettin’ a headache, is all…” you told him, hoping he'd take the lie. He sighed a little.

“Fine… Goodnight, princess,” he grumbled, tilting his head a little. You blinked a bit to hide your eye roll, and you bent down a bit to kiss his cheek quickly before standing up straight.

“Goodnight, Daddy…” you said softly, hurrying away to the bedroom. You got changed quickly and climbed into your bed, turning off your lamp and covering your head with your thin blanket.

Within the next hour, you winced at the sound of yelling from out in the front room of the house. Henry was going to get you tomorrow for leaving him out there with Dad, but he was better at dealing with him than you were. When Henry came into the room, tears staining his cheek and a big bruise forming on his arm, you held completely still, waiting until he got into his own bed and adopted a similar position to your own, to turn over and look towards the door, quickly closing your eyes when you saw your Dad stumbling down the hall and into the bedroom. You heard the door close, then felt your bed shift, and your eyes snapped open. In the darkness, you could see him trying to climb into your bed, and you sat up.

“Daddy…?” you whispered. He grunted. “This is my bed…”

“I know…” he slurred.

“Do you need help getting into yours?”

He grunted again and you got out of bed silently, walking over to him and taking his arm, bringing him over to his bed on the other side of the room. You often wished you had your own room, but at least you didn't have to share a bed with Henry anyone. Around the time you turned eleven, the two of you were too big to fit in one bed (plus, Henry said he thought it was weird sleeping with you next to him) and you had gotten a bed all to yourself. It was one of the only things you had that you didn't have to share with Henry and/or your Dad. So you didn't want to complain.

You sat your Dad down on his bed carefully and got him under the covers, laying on his side. You let go of him, then felt his grip on your arm. “Come lay with me, baby…” he mumbled. You froze, and you saw Henry sit up a bit.

“D-Daddy--”

“Please, it's always so much nicer when you're near me,” he tried. Henry coughed and your Dad's hand immediately let go of you. You hurried back to your bed and climbed under your blankets, covering your head again.

It wasn't the first time he had suggested something like that. When you were littler and woke up having a nightmare, he would let you sleep next to him, but this was different. You had stopped doing that when you were eight or nine. Around the time you turned thirteen, he had started requesting that you lay next to him while you slept. You had only done it a few times, because you had no choice, but it was the most terrifying request to you… because of what happened the first time he made you sleep next to him.

You forced yourself out of the memory, shivering at the now cold water hitting your back. You shut the water off and grabbed your towel off the rack, wrapping it around you and stepping out of the tub onto the ratty towel on the floor. You heard a knock on the door and you jumped.

“U-Uh just a second,” you called.

“Just me, princess,” your Dad said, opening the door. You held your towel more tightly around you. He seemed unphased by your indecency, and leaned against the doorframe. “How's your first week off been?”

You gulped. “Um… good, I got a lot done… I'm just gonna do laundry today,” you explained. Thursday was always laundry day for you. He nodded slowly.

“If I give you money, can you go to the store and get food?” he asked. You nodded quickly. He started to walk away, and you blinked.

“Oh, Dad,” you spoke up. He turned back to you. “Um… I was wondering if I could… um…”

“Spit it out.”

“W-Well, it's just that I need a new…” you started. You gulped and lowered your voice. “...bra…”

You watched his eyes almost light up and your stomach twisted. “You a’ready got one,” he pointed out.

“Y-Yeah but… it's old. It's too small for me now…” you explained. His eyes travelled down to try and confirm your claim. You pulled your towel up a bit. “I-I was just wondering if I could have some money to buy a new one…”

He looked you in the eye again. “You're ain’t wantin’ to buy pretty underwear for a boy, are you?” he questioned, a threat slipping through in his voice. You blinked and quickly shook your head. “You’re too pretty for your own good, you know that? I know you probably got boys tryin’a get after you, but you don’t need any of ‘em, you know that right? You got two fine boys right here at home.” You hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. You knew he and Mr. Marsh talked a lot about their  _ pretty girls _ and needing to keep boys away from what’s theirs. Henry knew about it too, and you knew it was the one thing he protected you from. “As long as you ain’t tryin’a look pretty for some boy…”

“No… no, I-It’s just too small, it hurts to wear, I need one that fits,” you insisted. He nodded slowly.

“I'll think about it…” he mumbled, turning away from you. You took a deep breath and closed the door to the bathroom again, locking it so you could get dressed.

As soon as you had your too-small bra, your shorts, and another handed down, faded muscle tee (this time it was a pinkish color where it used to be red), you walked out of the bathroom and walked out to get your sneakers on. When you sat down to get them on, you saw Henry walking to the front door. He opened the door a bit.

“You're early,” he mumbled.

“Sorry, dude,” you heard Belch laugh. Henry glanced at you.

“Where you goin’?” he asked, slipping his boots on.

“The store,” you told him, standing up and grabbing your walkman and headphones off the table next to door. You looked out at Belch and Vic. “Sorry, I didn't know you two were here, I would have let you in.”

“Huggins,” your Dad spoke up, coming out of the bedroom in his uniform, with his wallet. The four of you froze and looked at him. “Would you be willing to give my little girl a ride to and from the store? I don't want her walking around by herself.”

You tried not to roll your eyes. “Uh… Y-Yeah, sure,” Belch agreed.

“You better be careful with her,” he said seriously. Belch gulped, his eyes wide.

“Y-Yes, sir,” he nodded. Your Dad eyed Vic a little, then turned to you and handed you a twenty.

“You know what to get,” he assumed. You nodded. He reached into his wallet and pulled out another twenty. “For what you asked about earlier.”

“T-Thank you,” you smiled, tucking the money into your pocket. Your smile fell when you felt him come closer to you to speak to you quietly.

“Get somethin’ pretty… you're growin’ up, after all, none’a that girl stuff,” he whispered. You knew he was a terrible whisperer, so you closed your eyes, embarrassed that Belch and Vic were probably hearing this. “And you can get a nice pair of undies too…”

“Yes, Daddy…” you said, your voice shaking. He moved back and you took the opportunity to move out the door quickly.

The four of you hurried out to Belch's car, and you hesitated before getting in the backseat. “I feel weird sitting here…” you mumbled, buckling yourself into the seat where Patrick used to sit.

“Well, he ain't here to use it,” Henry pointed out shortly.

“Yeah, we’ll just tell him we found somebody better to take his seat, right Henry? We'll tell him that when he gets back, huh?” Belch laughed, looking at Henry hopefully. Henry pulled out a cigarette and lit it, not answering him. Belch cleared his throat and started driving.

“What the fuck was Dad talkin’ to you about?” Henry asked, glancing back at you.

You blushed. “Nothin’, don't worry about it, Hen,” you tried.

“Why was he talkin’ to you 'bout underwear?” he pressed. You sighed and hugged yourself a little. “Y/N, if he's doin’ somethin’ to you--”

“No, Henry, I just… need a new bra, he gave me some money…” you explained.

“Yeah, and he told you to get somethin’ pretty…” he reminded you, flicking his cigarette ashes out the window. “I never wanna say nothin’ bad about Dad but… but I don't like it when he talks about you like you’re his girlfriend or his wife or somethin’.”

“Don't worry Henry, it's fine,” you said softly. He blinked and looked ahead. “Thank you about last night, by the way…”

“What’dya mean?”

“When you coughed, after Dad got in bed,” you reminded him. He stayed silent. “Y-You know what he was tryin'a--”

“Musta been a coincidence. I just coughed,” he mumbled, sticking his cigarette back between his lips.

You took this as a sign to be quiet, so you looked down, putting your headphones on over your ears, starting up your tape.

Vic was watching you out of the corner of his eyes, seeing how upset you looked. He wished he could at least touch your hand and let you know he was there for you, but he couldn't. Not in front of Henry, and not when you hated him so much. He didn't understand the full extent of what your Dad did to you, but he could take a guess, and he could remember the looks and the comments. And it sent a burning rage through him.

Belch parked his car on the curb in front of the general store and glanced back at you, then looked at Henry. “Wanna go in? We could pick up a few things?” he suggested with a shrug.

“Sure,” Henry sighed, flicking his cigarette out the window and getting out of the car. The three of you followed him, and you went into the store, grabbing a basket, and starting to get your groceries. Mac and cheese, a couple of microwave dinners, white bread, a bottle of coca cola. Then you grabbed a few cans of peas and green beans. You supposed you could at least  _ try _ and get your Dad and your brother to eat something healthy…

“Dude I'm not doing anything…”

You glanced up, pulling one of your headphones off your ear, and looking towards the aisle next to you as you heard more arguing. “Bullshit, you think I don't see the way you keep makin’ eyes at her? That's my little fuckin’ sister, Vic, and I said she was off limits,” Henry hissed.

“Henry, I'm not making eyes at her, I swear,” Vic sighed.

“Patrick said he saw you guys talkin’ that night we were all out, on the last day of school. What’d you talk about?” he pressed.

“Nothing, really. We were just… she mentioned that her friends ditched her, and we talked about some stuff we did when we were kids,” he said. “That's all. And then she went home.”

“Yeah, see, what I don't like about that, 's that I told you to stay the fuck away from her, and you didn't. What the hell’s that about, Vic, why would you go and do that after I  _ specifically _ told you not to?” Henry growled.

“Henry, it's not a big deal, it wasn't romantic or nothin’, she looked upset, and I wanted to make sure somethin’ bad hadn't happened, and we talked about nothin’, _nothin’_ happened,” Vic tried.

You sighed and walked around to their aisle. You saw Vic stumble back as Henry let go of him and turned to you. You stared at him and shook your head a bit. He frowned and stormed up to you. “Hey, you should be happy I'm wastin’ my time sticking up for you. You  _ know _ what Dad would do if you got a boyfriend, he would burn the whole fuckin’ town down,” he growled at you.

“I appreciate you sticking up for me. Really. But I'll be alright. I'm good at keeping secrets. And I don't need you harassing people for me,” you told him calmly. He glared at you a little, then tsked.

“You're  _ really _ set on gettin’ yourself killed this summer, huh? Fine, see if I fuckin’ care,” he scoffed, shoving past you and going to wait out in the car. You shook your head a little and looked back towards Vic, walking towards him. He looked almost scared, and stood completely still until you stopped in front of him.

Neither of you moved, then you rolled your eyes. “Can you move, so I can get my shit?” you said. He jumped a little and stepped out of the way, looking down and scratching his head. You went on your toes to grab the can you wanted off the shelf and set it in your basket. “How's your girlfriend?”

He blinked. “What? I don't have a girlfriend…” he told you. You rolled your eyes again.

“The senior, the one you fucked and acted all lovey dovey to?”

“Patrick made it sound worse than it was, Y/N, it wasn't like that. We just talked sometimes, then we… look, it was a mistake, I shouldn't have done it,” he insisted. You chuckled, shaking your head. “I broke my promise and… I'm sorry, I just… you don't even seem to like me, so I thought… I thought you'd have forgotten all that stuff we promised.”

“Victor, I'm not even allowed to like you,” you reminded him, glancing over at him. You turned to look at him. “Well. I guess Henry's gonna back off, so I can do what I want. But either way, it's too late now, so…” You turned to go to the register, and he put his face in his hands.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked up quickly. “You alright, bud?” Belch asked, looking around, then shoving a bag of chips under his sweatshirt, putting his hands in his pockets to cover it up. “Girl troubles?”

“Don't worry about it,” Vic mumbled.

“If Henry doesn't care no more, this is your chance to get her!” he hissed. Vic blushed a bit, shrugging. “Come on, you've wanted her forever, you can hit that now!”

Vic shushed him just as you came around the corner with your shopping bags. “You guys good?” you asked.

“Yeah, I already got a few things,” Belch said, starting to walk out the door, going to his car. You looked at Vic and he cleared his throat, looking down and following you out.

Belch pulled the chips out from under his sweatshirt once everyone was in the car, and he handed them to Henry. “Do you want me to bring you to Mardens, Y/N? You know, for the… uh… your, uh…?”

“Sure, thanks,” you smiled, looking down. He nodded and started driving towards towards the outer part of town, where the store sat along the border to the next town.

The four of you sat in silence, then Henry looked back at you. “So, you guys gonna fuck now?” he asked coldly.

“Henry!” you scoffed, shaking your head and leaning against the window.

“I figure if you're gonna go breakin’ Dad's number one rule, you should at least do it with someone less fuckin’ obvious,” he shrugged. “I mean, my ass is gonna get beat, too, if you get caught.”

“Yeah, well, don't worry,” you said. “You got nothin’ to worry about.” He shook his head and turned back around, breaking into the bag of chips and starting to eat them. Belch stopped the car in the parking lot of the Mardens, and you set your walkman and headphones on the seat. “Anyone wanna come in with me?”

“Vic’ll go,” Belch suggested. Henry glared at him a little, and you got out, looking at Vic. He was bright red, but he got out of the car and followed you inside.

The two of you walked around silently, and he paused as you went into the section with the bras and the underwear. “I uh… I'm gonna go look over here,” he said, pointing in a random direction.

“You can come look with me,” you shrugged. He hesitated, then walked over as you looked through your size. He crossed his arms uncomfortably and looked around. “So you really don't care about that senior chick?”

He looked at you, surprised. “No! No, no I don't care about her at all… Patrick and Henry… they were bein’ so mean about me not gettin’ any… a-and I didn't know how to explain that I was waiting for you--” he tried. You looked up at him and he blushed. “I just… I shouldn't have done it, I feel so stupid.”

You looked back at the bras and shrugged. “Whatever… you're not stupid,” you told him. “I'm still wait for you, anyway, so…” His eyes widened a little and you side glanced at him, smirking. You pulled a bra off the rack and held it up to your chest. “What'dya think of this one?”

You couldn't help but giggle at his bright red face, and he ran a hand through his hair. “It's beautiful…” he told you softly. “Y-You would look beautiful in it.” Now it was your turn to blush, and you turned back to the rack quickly, shifting through and finding a few you liked, then grabbed a few pairs of panties. “I'm… gonna try these on. Will you wait for me?”

He nodded quickly, and walked with you to the dressing room, waiting outside. He tried to get his breathing under control, and distracted himself by looking aimlessly through a rack of miscellaneous clothes. He couldn't be more confused. Up to this morning, he was  _ certain _ that you hated him. But now, you were saying you were going to wait for him? You were waiting to  _ lose your virginity to him _ ? The mixed signals made the fluttering in his stomach almost painful, and the thoughts in his head sent fiery anxiety into his heart.

“Vicky?”

He looked up, walking up to your dressing room door. “Y-Yeah?”

“Would it be weird to ask you to come in?” you asked quietly.

He felt his heart jump into his throat, his blush spreading to his ears. “I-I mean, a little…” he admitted.

“Alright…”

“B-But I'll come in if you really want me to,” he pressed. He heard you chuckle a bit, then the door unlocked. He took a deep breath, then pushed the door open a little, looking around before sliding in. He kept his eyes down, looking at the bench where your shorts and your tee were laying in a pile. This felt indecent-- no. Intimate. The changing room was small, not any bigger than one of the bathroom stalls at school. It was clearly only made to fit one person at a time, and he couldn't see you, but he could  _ feel _ you. He could feel your heat and the softness that you somehow managed to give off through the tough exterior you tried so hard to keep up.

“You can look at me, Vic,” you whispered. He hesitated, then looked up and over. He felt a little guilty by his immediate reaction, how he stumbled and caught himself on the wall, as he got dizzy as he felt all the blood blushing his face rush down.

“Oh… wow…”

“What do you think?” you smiled a bit. He couldn't take his eyes off of you, the way the light pink, lacy bra supported your breasts, and the matching panties hugged your soft hips. His mouth fell open to respond to you, but he couldn't find the words to describe exactly how he thought you looked.

Beautiful? Gorgeous? Hot? Sexy? His mind was a spiral of adjectives, he just couldn't find the right one. He wondered if there was some way he could say all of the words at once, there had to be some word--

“Don't get a fuckin’ nosebleed, just tell me what you think,” you pressed shortly. But there was a smile of your face and you looked flustered.

He dared to blink. “Perfect…” he managed to say. You felt your face heat up and you looked down, wondering if this was such a good idea. Dammit, you love him so much… but your Dad would kill him, and probably put you in a pretty bad coma if he ever found out you even appreciated Vic. And Henry was bound to tell him about how you felt. If it saved his own ass, and kept Dad happy with him, he would put you in that danger. And you didn't even know how Vic felt, really. He seemed to like you, but it could easily be a game to him…

“Fuck it,” you sighed, looking up and moving closer to him, pressing your lips to his. His clothes felt strange against your nearly bare skin, but you couldn't help but press yourself closer to him, appreciating that he was bigger than you, but not  _ too _ much bigger, appreciating that he was warm, that he smelled nice. That he was your age… that he had no ill intent.

But he wasn't kissing back. He wasn't grabbing you or pushing you up against the wall, even if he wanted to get more handsy with you-- you could feel what seeing you like this was doing to you, you could feel it against your waist as you pushed yourself against him. You moved your lips apart, and opened your eyes. He looked shocked, to say the least, not mad, but not happy. You hesitated and stared up at him.

“I'm… I'm confused…” he admitted, his voice weak. You blinked and moved back from him a bit. “All week it's been like you hate me. And now… now this… and you kiss me, I'm just… confused.”

You sighed a little and looked down. “I don't hate you, Vic, I could never hate you,” you told him. “I just don't like the thought of you with another girl.” You shrugged a bit. “And… my Dad says I can't get with boys, so… so I'm scared… right now, I'm scared.”

“Why doesn't he want you with boys?” he wondered worriedly. He wanted the real reason, not the whole  _ he’s just being protective _ bullshit that Henry always told him.

You shook your head and shrugged again. “I dunno, you know…. I'm his girl… I'm the only girl in the house, after Mom left… and Rena’s only around so much, and who fuckin’ wants that bitch around all the time anyways…” You cleared your throat and looked down. “I'm the only girl, he doesn't want my attention on any boy that doesn't live in my house…”

“That's not okay…”

“Yeah, well,” you chuckled. You cleared your throat. “I wanna be with you, if you promise not to tell my brother.”

Vic’s face flushed again, and you smiled a little. “Yeah… yeah, I’d like that. To be with you,” he nodded. “And I won’t tell Henry.”

You sighed happily and nodded, looking down. Vic touched your arm gently and you took a breath. “I um… I guess I should change back into my clothes,” you said. He blinked, then nodded quickly. “Um… could you step back out again?”

“What? Oh!” He turned quickly and unlocked the door, stepping out again and closing the door. He leaned against the frame while he waited for you, and he could feel his face heating up, and his mouth curled up into a smile. You  _ did _ want to be with him! And you had  _ kissed _ him! He felt a little bad for not reciprocating… fuck, he felt  _ really _ bad… he had just stood there like an idiot, you probably thought he was such an--

He stood up quickly and turned to look at you when the door opened. You smiled a little at him and he returned it nervously. “You should ask me on a date,” you suggested calmly.

“Yeah? Yeah, yeah, I should, a date,” he agreed frantically, trying to think. “W-Where do you wanna go? And when? We can do whatever you want.”

“Just… take me out, we can even just go for a walk and get ice cream. Nothing big,” you shrugged. He thought about this and nodded. “Tonight.”

“Tonight? Yeah! Yeah, absolutely,” he nodded. You laughed a little.

“I’m gonna go pay for these,” you told him, holding up your bra and panties. He stared at them for a moment. “You wanna go wait out in the car?” He nodded a little and you went up on your toes, kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll be out in a minute, kay?”

He nodded again, and went out towards the front of the store, glancing back you every so often before going out the door and getting into the car.

“Where’s Y/N?” Henry asked, looking back at him. Belch glanced back at him as well.

“She’s just paying for her stuff,” Vic explained.

“You’re blushin’, bud,” Belch teased. Vic blinked, looking towards the window.

“Am not, it was just hot in there, is all. That’s why I came out here, didn’t wanna be in there anymore,” he mumbled. He could feel Henry glaring at him, but he just watched as you came out of the store with your bag in your hand, and a little bounce in your step. It had been some time since he had seen you happy… he just hoped he could keep you that way. He would do anything to keep you happy….


	3. With Enemies Like These, Who Needs Friends?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 3,599  
Rating: SFW  
Warnings: mention of abuse, implied past sexual abuse, possessive behavior

You could see Belch and Vic inside the gas station, walking around while you waited in the car with your brother. Henry seemed to be very preoccupied staring at his cigarette smoke, and you could see his impatient expression through the side mirror of the car. You cleared your throat, glancing down.

“Henry, I don't need you followin’ me around.” You looked forward at Henry as he laughed. “What?”

“You're followin’  **us ** around, kid,” he said, looking back at you.

“No,  **I** was shoppin’, you could have gone and done your own shit,” you told him. He shook his head. “What, Dad told you to watch me?”

“Yeah, you know that. I gotta keep my damn eye on you,” he mumbled, glaring at you.

“You don't  **have** to,” you shrugged. “Why is this the only thing you listen to Dad about?”

He froze and turned, and you crossed your arms. “‘cause you're his little fuckin’ princess. If you start actin’ up and doin’ the shit I do, he'd kill you,  **and ** me,” he pressed.

“And if I get free, he'll lose me, and he don't wanna lose the only good woman he's got,” you said softly. He hesitated, then looked down. “I don't wanna be here forever, Henry. I wanna get outta this town as soon as I can,  **away** from him… I ain’t gonna to stick around after high school…”

“He'd lock you in the house if you ever fuckin’ meant that…” he scoffed. “You know that, if you ever try and leave, you better expect to turn out just like Mama, and I ain't about to let that happen neither.”

You sighed. “Well, I appreciate you wantin’ to protect me--”

“Protect you? No no no, that ain’t what I meant,” he scoffed. You frowned. “If you leave and never come back, then you're gonna leave me alone. With  **him** . And I love him but I fuckin’  **hate** him, you know? I ain't gonna let you leave me alone with him.”

“So what’s that mean?”

“Means if you try’n leave, I'll stop you as much as he does,” he explained. You glared at him. “That's why I listen to him ‘bout this shit. 'cause you don't just get to up and leave us 'cause you wanna be a selfish bitch and abandon your family. We talked about this before, Y/N, we both promised never to leave.”

“That was before I knew there was another world outside, where Dad couldn't beat up on us. But I ain't Mama. I wouldn't leave you here alone,” you insisted.

“And by the way,” he said quickly, as though he didn't hear a word you said. “I weren't givin’ you permission to date Vic. You still can't date guys, 'specially not my best friend.” You opened your mouth to argue. “I ain't stupid. I don't know what you two did in that store, but whatever you did, you gave him a hard on. And Dad’ll  **kill you** for that.”

“I ain't even with Vic! I didn't do nothin’ to him!” you tried. “And it ain't your business if I did, neither.”

He raised an eyebrow and leaned back to face you more. “If I’m  **ever** suspicious 'bout you and anybody, I'm tellin’ Dad,” he told you.

“Why?!”

“To save my own ass,” he explained coldly. You shook your head and leaned over, opening the car door and climbing out. “Where're you goin’?”

“Inside!” you snapped. He just tsked and sucked on his cigarette.

You looked both ways before walking passed the gas pumps towards the building and you tried to take a breath to calm yourself down before going inside. Vic and Belch looked up at you, and Vic smiled brightly. You gulped a bit and rolled your eyes a little. “Henry's acting up. What are you guys getting?” you asked.

“Candy 'n stuff,” Belch said. He glanced towards the cashier and lowered his voice. “Gonna grab a few packs’a cigs, too, when he ain't lookin’.” You nodded and touched Vic's hand a little, while Belch wasn't looking. Vic blushed and looked down.

“I swear, I saw her wear that shirt yesterday…”

You frowned and glanced behind you, seeing Greta and your old friends grabbing chips and snacks off a shelf and laughing with each other. “I'm serious, she  **always** wears the same clothes. And now she's hanging around with her brother, I  **knew** she wouldn't make any friends.” You glared her way, then moved away from Vic and Belch and walked over to them.

You had always been a little taller than Greta, so you leaned over the shelves to look in the aisle they were in. “Hey, Greta,” you greeted, making your voice sound as sweet as you could make it.

She glanced back at you, then grimaced. “Oh… hey, Y/N,” she scoffed. You blinked. “I see you're hanging out with Henry and his bitches. Is he your best friend now that no one else likes you?”

Some of the girls laughed and you smiled tightly. “They were just giving me a ride to the store, we're not hanging out,” you explained.

“Oh, you're shopping? For new clothes, I hope,” she said. You raised an eyebrow. “I mean, you really need some, you can't spend another summer wearing the same pair of shorts and the same three of your brother's shirts.”

“Why can't I?” you wondered, tilting your head.

Greta tsked. “You’d think with how much your Daddy loves you, he'd buy you new clothes to look at you in,” she shrugged. You froze, your smile falling, you moved around to their aisle, and you ignored Vic as he moved closer to you.

“What'd you just say to me?” you asked coldly. Greta pouted a bit. “What the fuck did I ever do to you? We were friends, and now you treat me like shit. Did I upset you or somethin’?”

“We're just done wasting our time with white trash,” she told you coldly. You shook your head a bit. “You know it's true, Y/N, the Bowers’ family has always been white trash.”

You felt your chest tense up and your teeth clenched and your hands curled into fists at your sides. You were trying to hold yourself back, you knew you couldn't get into a fight with her, but how ** dare** she say this stuff about you? You opened your mouth to speak, but felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned and looked up at Vic, who looked worried.

“Hey, let's go check out,” he said carefully. You blinked then looked back at Greta, shaking your head a bit and turning to follow Vic. Greta and her friends started mumbling, then walked out of the store without the snacks they had come for.

You watched her. “Did you hear the way she was talking about me?” you asked quietly. Vic touched your arm gently. “I mean, what the fuck, why would she say that stuff to me?”

“I dunno,” Vic said, moving his hand to touch your shoulder. You looked down, wanting to lean into him and let him hold you, but you had to remind yourself that Henry was still out in the car, that he could still see you. “Want me to buy you something?”

“No, it's fine…”

“Come on, I'll get you candy, I remember your favorite,” he tried, putting his hand on your hip. You glanced around, blushing. He grabbed a pack of your favorite candy from the counter rack, and waited for Belch to finish buying his soda and his candy, and asking to put five dollars on pump three. Once he moved and told them he'd be waiting for them outside, Vic moved up and paid for the candy in his hand.

He turned back to you and handed it to you, smiling. “You didn't have to--”

“No, but I wanted to,” he said. You sighed and blushed a bit, taking the candy and thanking him quietly. “Can you meet me at the monument tonight? Maybe around 6?”

“That's so close to curfew,” you pointed out.

“It's alright,” he shrugged. “We'll be careful, I promise.” He held the door for you as the two of you left the store, and you walked over to the car.

“It took you idiots long enough,” Henry scoffed, flicking his cigarette out towards the building. “It's fuckin’ hot out, I ain't got time to wait around.”

“You know you could have come in with us? And gotten something,” you pointed out. Vic got in the car on his side, and Belch finished pumping his gas, so you started to open your door. “If you wanna be grumpy, that's your problem.”

“Hey, Y/N!” You turned, seeing Greta and her friends walking up behind you. You rolled your eyes. “I hope you didn't take what I said personally.”

“Really?” you asked skeptically.

“Oh, of course, sweetie,” she nodded, smirking a bit. “It's really none of my business what you wear, it's not like I'm gonna be seen with you.” She moved in closer. “And that thing I said about your Daddy looking at you? Way outta line. And the white trash thing too. You can't help it that you were born into that.”

“You should shut up,” Henry spoke up from next to you.

Greta glanced at him. “Oh, is your big brother gonna start protecting you now?” she taunted. “I knew it was only a matter of time before he fucked you too--”

Before you knew it, she was on the ground, holding her nose and crying. You opened your hand and winced, looking at the bloody knuckles. “You stupid  **bitch** ! How dare you! I'm gonna tell my Dad, and he's gonna make hell for you!” she sobbed. Her friends were all around her, helping her up and trying to stop her nose from bleeding. You just glared at her.

“Don't start a fight if you ain't gonna fight,” you told her coldly, walking up to her and grabbing her by the collar. “And don’t you  _ ever _ talk shit about me again, got it? Or it’ll be worse than a bloody nose.” You grimaced down at her before walking back over to the car. Henry was glaring at you as you got into the backseat, and Belch quickly pulled out of the gas station as soon as you’d closed the door.

“Holy shit, Y/N!” he laughed, keeping his eye on the road. “I never seen you hit nobody before!”

You curled up, putting your head against the window and trying not to cry. You didn't understand why Greta would say things like that to you? Had she thought that the whole time you were friends? Did that mean you were  **never** friends?

You wiped your eyes quickly, then took a shaky breath and burst into tears. You felt Vic shift and look over at you.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently.

“She's fine,” Henry said shortly. “Y/N, quit cryin’.”

“S-Sorry…” you mumbled, trying to wipe your tears away quickly.

“You gotta be stronger than that bitch. You can't ever let people see you cry,” he continued. “I know you're a girl, and it's harder to keep yourself from cryin’--”

“I know, Henry, I'll stop,” you hiccuped, covering your face and taking some deep breaths.

You felt the car pull to a stop after a while, and you looked up, seeing Henry get out of the car and open your door. You sniffed and looked up at him. “Come on, we got shit to bring in,” he ordered. You quickly grabbed your grocery bags and your Marden’s bag, and your walkman and your candy, and got out of the car. “See you guys later.” Belch waved a bit, and you looked at Vic with a small smile, which he returned. The car pulled away, and Henry went towards the house. You following him, and he let you in front of him so you could unlock the door, and you both went inside. Your Dad had gone off to work a few hours ago, and you set the groceries down on the counter, sighing. “Go ahead and put that away, then come here.”

You rolled your eyes a bit and started taking the groceries out of the bag, putting the slightly defrosted microwave dinners in the freezer (you supposed you should have thought of that…) and the soda in the fridge, the cans in the cupboard. You held onto your bag, walking over to him. “I want to change, can I change before you rant at me?” you asked quietly.

“Will you be quick?” he asked. You nodded. “Be quick, then.”

You hurried to your room, and closed the door quickly. You pulled off your shirt and pulled your bra out of the bag, touching the lacey fabric. You pulled the tags off and took off your old bra, putting on the new one carefully. It fit so much more comfortably… and  **Vic** liked it… you turned, looking at yourself in the mirror on the door. Did Vic really like how you looked? With your wiry frame and your stomach that always looked and felt empty? You sighed and went to grab your shirt, then tossed it back in your dresser, pulling out a nicer one… a soft blue tee-shirt that fell off your shoulder a bit. You put on deodorant and pulled the shirt on, then changed into your new underwear and pulled your shorts back on, careful to get them on past your sneakers. You opened the door, hurrying back out to Henry. He looked you up and down.

“You look too nice,” he said.

“Too nice?” you scoffed.

“Dad wouldn't want you wearin’ that out…” he explained.

“I don't care. What'd you wanna say to me?” you asked shortly.

He tsked. “I wanted to say, that I'm glad you punched that bitch. She had it comin’,” he started. “But that shit she was sayin’ to you… why would she be sayin’ that, have you been sayin’ shit to her?” You hesitated. “You know you can't tell nobody 'bout the shit Dad does to us?”

“Why not?” you said softly. “M-Maybe, if we told somebody, he'd stop--”

“Or he'd deny it, then beat us till we couldn't walk,” he argued. “Or, if somethin’  **could** get done, they'd take us away from him. And they'd separate us, and we'd never see each other again. Is that what you want?”

“No…”

“Then keep your damn mouth shut,” he told you. “And grow up. You can't trust nobody but me, and Dad. Nobody else gives a damn about you, Y/N, and you gotta start learnin’ that chicks only listen to you so they can gossip and laugh at you, and boys only get close so they can manipulate you, and break your heart. You understand?” You frowned a bit. “Y/N, you understand? Nobody cares about you!”

“I don't believe that. Somebody else cares about me,” you insisted.

“Oh yeah? Who?” he wondered. You shrugged and looked down. “Vic? You think  **Vic** gives a shit about you? He's just tryin'a fuck with you, Y/N, no boy would  **ever** go for you.”

“Shut up, Henry, you don't know what you're talkin’ about,” you snapped at him. He shook his head. “I'm goin’ for a walk, tell Dad I'll be back later if he asks.”

“Where the fuck are you goin’?”

“On a walk! Just… I don't wanna be here right now, I need to be alone!” You grabbed your candy and hurried out the door. 

It only took about fifteen minutes to get to the monument down by the library, and you knew it had only been 5:20ish when you had left, but you couldn't stand being around Henry any more. You hated how he just accepted the things your Dad did, that he even went so far as to try and feed into the lies that Dad told you, you couldn't believe that he could be so selfish….

…”You sat down at the base of the monument and started eating your candy slowly, looking down at your hand. The blood had dried to scabs over the knuckles, and the skin was purpled and a bit swollen, but you could still move your fingers so you considered yourself to have gotten off alright.

You wondered what Vic would think. Dammit, you should have washed it off, and wrapped it, he wouldn't want to see this. You couldn't even figure out why he liked you, you didn't know what he could possibly see in you… a weak little girl? A slave to your brother and father?

All you could think was… what if Henry was right? What if Vic was just fucking with you? What if he was just trying to manipulate you, and he was going to break your heart? Maybe you shouldn't have come, you should have just stayed home, and made dinner, and gone to bed early, just to wake up and do it all again… but, god, you wanted this to be real. You wanted Vic to care about you, and  **really** care about you. You wanted to be what he wanted, you wanted to be  **perfect** for him…

You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach and you set your candy down, hugging yourself. What was he going to think when the two of you finally went all the way? What would he think when he saw… You shuttered a bit as your brain tried to push back memories-- nightmares. If Vic took you, and saw there was no virginity to break, he would  **never** forgive you. He would call you a liar, and a slut, and a bitch. And how could you explain…? Would he be disgusted in you for the things you let happen? For being hurt, and being made so that

**no other man could ever call you his, or want you…**

You stood up suddenly, and started to walk back in the direction of your house.

“Oh, hey, you're here early!”

You stopped and looked over, seeing Vic walking towards you, the biggest smile on his face, and a daisy in his hands. You blushed a little and felt your stomach flutter. He had brought you a flower… he had come early to meet you, he  **wanted** to meet you.

“Y-You are too,” you chuckled, walking over to him.

“Where were you goin’?” he wondered.

“O-Oh, I was just…” you started. “I wasn't goin’ nowhere. Just walking around.”

His smile faltered a bit, then he cleared his throat and held the daisy out towards you. “I saw this on my way over, and… and I thought it was pretty, and I thought you'd like it, maybe,” he explained. You chuckled a bit and he stepped forward, gulping. “I thought it would look nice in your hair…”

“Go ahead, then,” you smirked a bit. He nodded and gently put the flower behind your ear, so that it looked to be resting in your hair. Then he backed away and smiled a bit. “Well? How's it look?”

“I was right. You  **are** beautiful,” he told you. You felt yourself blush, and he took your hand gently. “So, ice cream?”

The ice cream parlor was only a five minute walk downtown, and Vic ordered his, then yours as well, despite your protests. He paid for it, and handed you your bowl, taking his own and leading you to sit down at a picnic table.

“This okay?” he asked, smiling a bit. You smiled back at him and nudged his foot under the table with your own.

“This is awesome… I've… I've never been on a date before, this is nice,” you shrugged, starting to eat your dessert.

Vic watched you a little, touching your hand. “Is your Dad at work?” he wondered.

“Yeah, until 8 or 9,” you told him happily. He nodded slowly.

“You think Henry's gonna come looking for us?” he asked, stabbing at his ice cream with his spoon.

You licked some of yours off your spoon, smirking a bit. “I told him to tell Dad I went on a walk,” you shrugged. “If he leaves, he’ll get in trouble. Easy…” He chuckled and swirled his spoon around in his bowl. You nudged his foot under the picnic table again, and he looked up at you. “Nervous?”

“No,” he said quickly, blushing. You shrugged and took another bite of your ice cream.

“I am,” you admitted.

He gulped and nodded. “Well… I'm a little nervous, I guess…” he agreed. You chuckled a bit. “Just… I don't wanna get you in trouble. And I don't wanna seem like an idiot…”

“Stop callin’ yourself that, you ain't an idiot,” you told him. “You're smarter than my brother, that's for sure. I trust you won't get me caught.” You winked at him and he flushed. “You  **are** a dork though.” He laughed a little and you rubbed your foot against his again. “Your ice cream’s melting, dork.”

He took another bite of his ice cream, and took your hand, looking at the knuckles. He ran his thumb gently over the wound and you winced. “Looks like it hurts…” he pointed out. “Are you okay? Maybe we should wrap you up.”

You finished what was in your bowl and shrugged. “I'm alright… just stings a bit,” you lied. He watched you and sighed, keeping your hand in his. It was such a nice feeling, holding his hand. Even though your knuckles stung, and you were terrified that someone was going to see you, it felt nice. It felt… right.


	4. The Memories are Like Chains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 6, 934  
Rating: NSFW  
Warnings: mention of abuse, implied past domestic abuse, implied past sexual abuse, PTSD, sex (kind of)

The two of you finished your ice creams and started walking around town, towards Bassey Park, so you could find somewhere to be alone. As soon as you had a spot to yourselves, sitting in a grassy little area, Vic gently squeezed the hand he still held. You looked up at him and smiled.

“I meant everything I said,” he said seriously. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “When we were kids. I meant it when I said I only wanted you.”

You blushed and looked down. “It weren't just kid stuff?” you wondered.

“No, it was never kid stuff with you,” he insisted He took your other hand gently, and you looked up at him, blinking uncertainly. He took a deep breath and touched your cheek carefully, tilting his head slightly to kiss you. You tried to wrap your mind around the tenderness of it, the way the hand on your cheek barely touched you, his thumb brushing your cheekbone lightly. His other hand rested on your waist, not grabbing or pulling you, just staying still on your hip. He moved his lips slowly against yours, and you realized that you needed to respond, so you tried to mimic his pace as best you could. You ended up trembling a little so he pulled away, resting his forehead on yours and looking into your eyes.

“What's wrong?” he asked softly, but worriedly. “You're shaking…”

“N-Nothing’s wrong, it's just…” You hesitated. “You're so gentle… and relaxed, and I'm not… I don't know how to be like that…”

“It's easy for me to be like that with you… everything feels right with you,” he told you with a smile. You blushed a little. “I feel right with you.”

“I feel right with you too,” you agreed touching his wrist where it rested on your hip.

Vic looked into your eyes and felt all the anxiety in the world melt away. You were what he had waited for, you were all he had ever wanted. And you needed him, you needed his affection and his support. You could take care of yourself, sure, but how long could you keep yourself together on your own? He felt like he needed to keep you safe from everything in the world…

“I love you,” he said calmly. He felt you tense up under his hands and against him, and saw your brow furrow again as if you were confused. Or maybe angry…

He felt a little (lot) of that anxiety come back, and he tried to move his hand back from your cheek, but you brought yours over it, holding it in place. “N-No one… I-I haven't heard that in a long time…” you whispered. He could see your eyes welling up with tears. The last person to tell you that they loved you was Henry, a few years ago. You were 9, and he was 10. That was the night that your house was filled with screams and shouts, and things were being broken and shattered, and Henry had grabbed you and hid with you in the coat closet while you're Dad screamed “ **You're not fuckin’ leavin’, Peg, if you think you can just leave, you got another thing comin’!** ”

And your Mom had insisted that she was leaving him, and she was going to come back for Henry and you as soon as she had a safe place, and he was going to be sorry for ever laying a hand on any of you.

“ **You think I'm fuckin’ around, Peggy, I’ll take the damn kids and shoot 'em dead if you try and leave me!** ” he had threatened.

You had held onto Henry tightly. He had his hand over your mouth to muffle your crying. He had been so afraid of what he was hearing. Dad was gonna shoot him and you? He was gonna kill you? And Mama was gonna leave? Where was she going?

Your Mom had somehow managed to get out the door, and through the slightly cracked open door of the closet where you hid, you could see how bloody and bruised and scared she looked. She looked like she might collapse, or like one more punch might kill her. She looked your way sadly, then you heard the front door slam open and closed again, and your Dad had started screaming. “ **You get back here! I still got your damn brats, I'm gonna kill 'em!** ”

“D-Daddy’s gonna kill us…” you had whimpered. “You can't let 'im, Henry, tell Mama to make 'im stop…”

Henry hadn't known what to do. You were so little (even though you were only a year younger than him), and so naive. Mom had kept you away from Dad's outbursts as much as she could, but Henry had taken it all. He knew he couldn't do anything to save you from Dad. Dad always said he was weak, and pathetic, and he was gonna grow up to be  **nothin’ but a paper man** .

“I-I love you…” was all he could think to tell you. “Sorry, Y/N, I love you…”

You could feel Vic wipe a tear off your cheek and it brought you back to the present. You felt your lip tremble and you practically fell into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and burrowing your face in his shoulder, sobbing suddenly.

“D-Do you mean that?” you whimpered, your eyes closed tightly. Henry had never said those words again. Your mother had never coming back, you couldn't even remember what her voice sounded like, let alone remember her telling you that she loved you. And your father wouldn't be caught dead saying he loved his kids. Why would he lie, anyway? Henry had stopped protecting you after that, keeping you out of the way if he could but never putting himself in harm's way if he could help it. No one had ever said they loved you since your family and what little safety you had had, had been torn apart. And if Vic meant this, you knew he would always keep you safe and taken care off, at least to the best of his ability.

“Of course I do,” he agreed, touching your hair lightly before kissing your head. “I love you more than anything…” You held onto him tightly, trying to stop yourself from crying even harder. “I've never wanted anyone but you…”

You didn't quite know how to react to this, and you looked up at him, wiping your nose a bit with the collar of your shirt. “I-I love you too…” you said softly. He smiled a little and wiped some of your tears away with his thumb. “I-I don't care what my Dad says… or Henry. I love you too…” Vic felt you move closer to him. “Sorry… I didn't mean to start cryin’… I just… I thought I'd never hear anybody say that to me again… it felt nice.”

“I'll say it to you as many times as you need me to,” he told you with a smile. His heart hurt a little to know that neither Henry or your Dad had shown you any compassion. Not that he was surprised. Henry was his best friend, he cared for him deeply, but he knew that compassion and kindness weren't easily brought out of him. And as for your Dad… well, he had never seen much of him, other than the few times he had been called a fag, or smacked to make Henry feel bad, but he had heard enough horrible stories and seen enough bruises on Henry to know that he couldn't care less about the two of you, really. Vic could see how much you needed this, how much you craved it. “I'll show you that I love you however I can.”

You just stared at him for a moment, then placed a hand on his cheek, holding onto him. “Will you promise not to go off with any other girls?” you asked hopefully. He nodded quickly.

“I never  **want** any other girl,” he pressed. He kissed your hand and you leaned even more against him.

“We're out after curfew,” you whispered to him. He smirked a little and hugged you. “Should we go somewhere more private?”

He turned red, and froze. “S-Sure… we can go to my house,” he told you. You sniffed and stood up carefully, keeping your hand in his.

He walked you towards his house, and you felt his hand let go of yours and instead touch your waist. The sun had disappeared behind the hills surrounding the town, and all that was left was a thin line of yellow and pink along the horizon, as the day tried desperately to hang on. You wished the light would stay. With the night came shadows, and you always felt them watching you. The shadows could talk, that's what Mama had always said. They could talk, and they always saw, and they  **always** told. So you should never let the shadows see what you wouldn't want Daddy to see… the shadows were on Daddy's side…

You glanced up at Vic, touching his arm. Even in the shadowy, cool darkness of the night, he was warm and bright. He didn't seem scared, or unsettled. He had a little smile on his face, and he smiled down at you when he noticed you looking at him. His pale cheeks were flushed a bit red, and his hazel eyes were filled with some emotion you didn't quite understand. Love, maybe? Lust? You took a shaky breath, looking down quickly. If it was the latter of those things (which it very well might have been, considering the way the front of his pants seemed to bulge a little), or even a combination of the two, you were completely lost as to how to show that you felt the same about him.

You took a deep breath and tried to smile a little. “I um… I wore the underwear I bought,” you said sheepishly. “And the bra. I know you said you liked them, so…” He tensed up and stopped in front of his house, turning to look at you. You could see how bright red his face was, and he held onto your hands, trying to keep his breathing steady, and shifting so that his pants wouldn't feel too unbearably tight.

“Can you go to my bedroom window? I'll let you in once I'm in there,” he explained. You nodded quickly and let go of him, hurrying around the house to his window.

Vic let himself into his house, mindful to hide his bulging crotch behind his sleeveless shirt as he walked into his kitchen, explaining to his Mom that he had lost track of time, and that he was tired and needed to go to bed early. The thin, wispy woman, who Vic still considered pretty, but her age lines gave her a bitter attitude, grunted a goodnight behind her wine glass, and he went into the bathroom to brush his teeth quickly (he knew his mom would come into his room complaining about how he hadn't otherwise).

His heart was hammering in his chest. You had worn sexy lingerie…  **just for him** . You were outside his bedroom window, he was going to sneak you in, and if he could manage it, you were going to spend the night together… god, he wanted that more than anything… he wanted to spend a night with you close to him, feeling warm and safe and protected…

He spit into the sink and rinsed his mouth, quickly going to his room and calling out one last goodnight to his Mom. Then he shut and locked his door quickly, hurrying to the window and opening it quietly. He helped you climb through, putting his hands on your hips to help you onto the ground. Then he shut it and closed the shades.

When he turned back to you, you were rubbing your arms and looking around his room. “So… this is what a boy's room looks like…” you joked quietly. He chuckled and walked over to you. “Cleaner than I expected.”

“Most people say that,” he shrugged. You glanced at him, then looked at his bed. “Although… by most people I mean Henry and Belch so…”

“Yeah… Henry's side is gross, I try and get him to clean up…” you laughed. He frowned, looking at you.

“You still share that room with Henry and your Dad?” he asked. You hesitated, then nodded. “W-Why don't you just take the room upstairs?”

You shrugged. “Dad says I need to be somewhere where they can keep me safe…” you explained. You sighed, not really wanting to talk about your Dad right now,  **especially** right now. You sat down on his bed and bounced up and down a little. “Comfy…”

He gulped and walked over, sitting down next to you. “Yeah…” he agreed, then hesitated. He took a deep breath and put his hand on your lower back. “Do you wanna lay down with me?”

You glanced up at him and smirked, quickly untying your shoes and kicking them towards the dresser. He did the same with his boot, and looked back, seeing you leaning back on his bed.  **His** bed… you were on  **his bed.**

He sat down again, and you sat up, crossing your leg a bit so that you could lift up the leg of his pants a bit with your toe, making him shiver a little. He kept feeling a burst of energy and excitement in his heart every time your knees touched, or your arms brushed up against each other's, and he glanced down as your hand fell on his arm. He brought his hand to rest on your waist, and he looked back up at you as you smiled up at him. God, how could something be so beautiful…?

“Are you gonna kiss me?” you asked nervously. He laughed a little, his face flushing red, and he moved forward to kiss you. You sighed a bit and squeezed his arm, pressing yourself closer to him. You had never done anything like this before… you felt completely lost, and that made you feel scared, and vulnerable, and you didn't like that. It made you feel as though you  **had** to pretend you knew what you were doing, even though Vic knew you were new to this. But you didn't want to seem scared in front of him, or let him down.

When his tongue touched your lips slightly, you almost pulled away, but you held still, gasping a bit. He seemed to take this as an open invitation to put his tongue in your mouth, and you held onto him, letting him do what he needed to do. You weren't sure if this was exactly right-- and frankly, neither was he --but you trusted that he knew what he was doing.

He seemed content licking into your mouth, and rubbing his tongue against yours, but then he moved his head a bit, his tongue going back into his mouth, and he sucked at your lip a bit. You liked this a little better. It felt less…  **invasive** .

Vic kept his mouth on yours, and kept on sucking, and doing things with his tongue, and you suddenly wondered if maybe he was waiting for you to do something other than just hold his arm. You let go of him hesitantly, and brought your hand to his face. You brought the other hand down to his leg, setting it on his thigh gently. He hummed a bit and pulled away from you, bringing his mouth down to kiss just under your jaw. You sighed contently, and started squeezing his thigh, making him grunt a bit against your skin. You figured that this meant he liked the way that felt, so you slid your hand a little farther up and rubbed and squeezed a bit more. He groaned, and you felt him pull your shirt up a bit, then he pulled away as he pulled it over your head, tossing it aside.

You let out a quiet cry as he turned you and lay you back on his bed. His hands were holding your wrists up above your head as he kissed you again, and you felt a little panicked, your heart rate increasing and your muscles tensing up. Just as you were about to try and yank your arms away, he moved his hands down and squeezed your breasts a bit. You took a shaky breath and he moved back a bit.

“Alright?” he asked gently, brushing his hand along your throat. You gulped and hesitated.

“Y-Yeah,” you agreed, uncertainty bleeding into your voice. “Am I doin’ okay?”

“You're doing fine. You don't have to be afraid to touch me though,” he chuckled.

“Touch you how?” you wondered.

“However you want to,” he told you. You didn't understand what that meant, but you nodded, letting him kiss you again.

You brought your hand to his chest, then slid it up to his shoulder, then his neck, letting your fingers run through his hair as his hand squeezed your hips, and he started pulling your shorts down. You moved back and he stopped again.

“Um… can you take some clothes off too?” you asked. “So I'm not the only one without clothes?”

He smiled a little and kissed your ear, letting go of your shorts and sitting up, pulling his shirt off over his head and tossing it aside. You blushed and looked up at him. You wanted to run your hands over his skin, but you weren't sure if he would want that…

“Want me to take off my pants too?” he questioned. You looked at him, and nodded. He looked so happy with you, so you figured he wasn't annoyed about you asking him to do things…

He moved off the bed and undid his belt, then undid his pants and pushed them down to his ankles. You shifted a bit to look at him, seeing a bulge in the crotch of his dark blue briefs. It sent a mixture of excitement and panic through you and you sat up a bit.

“Oh…” you whispered.

“Want me to take these off too?” he chuckled. You blinked, looking him in the eye. His smile faltered and he moved to the bed again, touching your cheek. “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

He looked so concerned, his happiness replaced with anxiety over how you were feeling. You didn't want that, you wanted to make him happy…

“Nothin’,” you lied, smiling. “I'm just… you're hot.” He chuckled and kissed you again, then rubbed his nose against yours.

“So’re you…” he told you, touching your hips. You thought, then grabbed your shorts and pulled them down carefully. Vic watched you, holding you while you slid the denim shorts down your legs, then kicked them to the side. He moved forward so that he was between your legs a bit, his hands grabbing at your ass. “God, you're so fuckin’ hot…”

You gasped sharply as he lifted you up to bring you farther up on to the bed, laying you on your back. He kissed you again and you felt his hands grab at the waistband of your panties, pulling them down almost impatiently.

**He's just tryin'a fuck with you, Y/N, no boy would ever go for you.**

You brought your hands to Vic's shoulders, kissing you more deeply by sucking on his lower lip the way he had done to you earlier, and pulling him closer to you. No… no, Henry was wrong, Vic wasn't fucking with you, he  **loved** you, he had promised. You were going to keep your promise to him, you had saved yourself for him, and he was going to be your first and only.

**Now no boy’ll ever want you, me and your brother are the only boys that'll ever love you, Y/N. We're the only ones that will ever want you. I'm the only one that can ever have you like this...**

“Vic, are you gonna fuck me?”

He looked down at you, looking shocked. Then he laughed a little. “Y-Yeah, if you want me to,” he agreed.

“Do  **you** want to, though?” you pressed. He blinked and gave you a questioning look.

“Yeah, Y/N, I do… we don't have to, if you're not in the--”

“I am. If you want this, I want this. And I'm ready for you, I…” He was looking down you with that concerned expression again. “I'm ready for you…”

“Yeah…? Y-Yeah… I'm ready for you, I've wanted this forever,” he nodded, smiling. He kissed you softly, and started touching you gently. So gently… it was really so mind blowing to you how gentle he was about all this, the way he talked to you, the way he kissed you, the way he touched you…

**This is what a real man does, Y/N, this is how a real man pleases a girl. It's supposed to be rough, that's how men do it, it's supposed to hurt.**

You whined a little and backed up as you felt Vic's fingers touch your clit with his soft touch. He looked at you, surprised, and you blinked. “W-What was that…?” you asked quietly.

He hesitated. “What was what?”

“That? The place you touched, it felt…” you started. He looked shocked.

“Y/N, have you ever... touched yourself?” he asked worriedly. You furrowed your eyebrows, not quite understanding the question.

“Like… down there?” you wondered. He looked even more surprised, and you shook your head. “Sh-Should I have?”

“I… I mean, I dunno, it's not… I mean, guys do,” he explained. “I guess… girls don't always…” He cleared his throat. “I won't do anything to hurt you, Y/N. Everything I do is to make you feel good, okay?” You hesitated. “I just need you to relax, okay? Can you trust me?”

You took a deep breath. “Yes… yes, I can trust you…” you agreed. He smiled a bit and moved closer to you, bringing his fingers back down to you, rubbing around your entrance before moving to your clit again and rubbing quickly. You gasped again and tensed up, your eyes falling shut and your head falling back. You'd never  **ever** felt anything like  **this** … if this was sex, then maybe it wasn't so scary after all.

“Okay?” he asked gently. You took a shaky breath, your hips rutting against his hand and your hand carefully gripping his wrist.

“Y-Yeah…” you breathed, using your other hand to grab the sheets of his bed. You jolted a bit suddenly and your legs squeezed together before you could stop them, and he stopped his movements to rub your thigh gently. You quickly moved so that your legs were apart, and your knees bent so that your feet were planted firmly on the bed. He moved his hand back to rub pure pleasure into your whole body just through that little spot, and you felt your belly and your heart tense up and flutter. You let out a soft whine, then you gasped as your body started shaking and tensed up, something like electric perfection shooting through you. You didn't even know how to describe what you'd just felt, the way your body felt on fire, the way your heart was beating, the way the world got a little darker, and everything between your legs tensed and felt hot and wet. It made you want more, something  **more** , you wanted touch and more of that amazing feeling, you  **needed** it. “Oh… V-Vic… please… w-what was that?”

You opened your eyes and looked up at him, seeing his flushed face and his glossy eyes. “Did you come?” he asked, his voice sounding husky. You just took a shaky breath, biting your lip as he moved his finger down and touched at your entrance. “You came… have you ever done that before?” You shook your head, smiling breathlessly. “Shit… I'm sorry, I just… I assumed--”

“Do it again…” you begged. He blinked. “Please, Vic, can you do it again?”

He thought. You were a virgin, sure, but he had assumed that you'd at least touched yourself… you'd never made yourself feel good before, that was insane to him… and now you wanted more, he had given you a taste of something that had been forbidden to you and now you craved more. He  **had** to give it to you, he  **had** to make you feel perfect…

He moved so that he was between your legs, and he pulled at your bra a little. You arched your back a bit and unbuckled your bra, pulling it off and setting it next to you. He took a deep breath and brought his hands up to cup and squeeze your breasts, looking absolutely hypnotized.

“You're gorgeous…” he said softly. “You're so… perfect. I want you to have everything… I wanna make you feel good…”

“You're the only one who can…” you insisted. He sighed happily and leaned down, sucking on your nipple much to your surprise. To add onto that, you felt one of his fingers unexpectedly push into your vagina. You gasped and sat up a bit. He hushed you gently, keeping still except to touch your cheek.

“It's alright, I'm not gonna hurt you… I'm sorry, I'll ask next time I wanna do something… but I'm not gonna hurt you, I wanna make you feel good again, okay? Just like you felt a minute ago,” he explained calmly. You gulped and nodded, laying back slowly. You felt his finger push back into you more slowly, moving in and out carefully for a moment. Then it hooked up and started rubbing at a spot that  **did** make you feel good… your body trembled a bit and you let your face hide in the pillow next to you to hide the tears that were brimming in your eyes..

Vic was trying to be  **careful** with you. You wanted that, but a horrible part of you

**It's supposed to be rough, that's how men do it.**

couldn't accept this… a horrible part of you felt that Vic thought you were weak, that he needed to be cautious and step on eggshells to keep you safe.

**You can't ever let people see you cry.**

You grabbed Vic's hand and he paused as you took a few shaky breaths. “You don't… you don't have to be gentle with me,” you told him quietly.

He gulped. “I know. I'm just tryin'a be cautious--”

“I know. You don't gotta do that neither. I'm not weak,” you I insisted. He blinked.

“No, I know you're not. I know you aren't weak,” he agreed. “You're  **much ** stronger than me. But I still wanna be careful with you, the last thing I wanna do is hurt you… you're so damn strong but  **I'm** scared I'm gonna hurt you.” He laughed a bit at that. “I just… I love you. I want you to have what you want. And… And I wanna make you mine.” He moved his hand back and tugged down his briefs.

You felt your heart skip a beat. He was gonna do it. He was going to put his…  **boy parts** in you…

**No boy can ever touch you**

You didn't feel right about that no matter how much you wanted it, and you  **hated** that. You wanted Vic to make you his

**I'm the only one that can have you**

more than anything. But he was going to know… as soon as he was inside of you, he would feel that you weren't his, completely, and he was going to hate you, he was going to  **hate ** you

**I'm the only one who cares about you, Y/N. I'm showin’ you that I care, sweetheart**

You felt all the pleasure leave your body and a terrible numbness washed over you as Vic leaned over you, kissing you so gently, and pulling your thighs apart so carefully. You felt your heart beating so fast you felt like you might throw up, and it increased as soon as you felt the tip of his penis touch your entrance.

“Ready?” he asked softly.

He wanted this. You wanted this… you didn't want to let him down, you didn't want to hurt him. So you nodded. He pushed into you and grunted a bit, hesitating, then moving slowly into you until he bottomed out. He took a shaky breath, looking down at you with heavy lidded eyes.

“Y-You alright?,” he asked carefully. You nodded again, quickly, looking away from him. “It feels…  **really** good, does it feel good?” Another nod. “It doesn't hurt at all?” Your brain was trying to zone you out so badly, that you nodded again, and he frowned. “It does hurt? Okay, alright, I'll hold still… just relax a little, breathe, everything's fine, it's normal for it to hurt a little. Just tell me when you want me to move, take as long as you need.”

That struck something in you, and you felt a rush of warmth go through you. You really looked into his eyes, and saw his concern and his passion and his  **love** . He kissed you gently and continued to take shaky breaths as he tried to stay completely still inside you, for you… with that rush of warmth you could feel his length poking your insides, and you could feel the slight burn from being stretched. He didn't seem to care that you weren't bleeding… he just wanted you to be okay… and happy.

You felt your face heat up and tears welled up in your eyes. You touched his face and tried to breathe. “Vic?”

“You alright?”

“I'm scared.”

He looked minorly terrified, and he hesitated. “Fuck, okay, um… do you want me to pull out, what's wrong?” he asked frantically.

“You aren't mad at me?” you questioned. He looked confused, shifting at the discomfort of being inside of you still while you needed emotional support.

“Mad? Why would I be mad at you?” he wondered.

“B-Because I didn't bleed…” you whimpered. He frowned a bit. “Because I'm not what you wanted me to be…”

“What the hell are you talking about? You're everything I've ever wanted, how can you--?” He hesitated, letting  **all** of your words sink in. “Why didn't you bleed?”

Your lip trembled. “I-I’m sorry, I wanted to keep my promise so bad, b-but he wouldn't stop when I told him to, a-and he said he was the only one that really cared about me, and he said he was gonna make it so boys didn't want me, a-and he made me break my promise, and I'm sorry…” you sobbed out, trying desperately to stop your tears.

Vic pulled out of you carefully and sat back. You sat up, wiping your eyes and looking at him. He looked... heartbroken… angry. Your Dad had been right, you weren't what he wanted anymore, you were disgusting to him, you weren't his, and you never could be.

“W-Who made you break your promise?” he pressed softly. You opened your mouth to answer, and felt your throat close up. All you could think was about what Henry had told you. That you could never tell anyone what your Dad did… because then, they'd take you both away, and you'd be separated from Henry and never see him again. And you couldn't be taken away from Henry, because he was one of the only people that really cared about you. Him and your Dad…

“I… I can't…”

Vic looked so hurt… he looked like he might start crying. You couldn't be perfect for him, you felt stupid for even trying. Now he was disappointed in you, he was heartbroken, and he hated you, he must  **hate ** you so bad.

“I-it’s okay…” he said softly, moving forward to touch your cheek. You flinched away, and he froze. “Y/N, it's okay…”

“No, no it's not!” you hissed. “I ruined this, I ruined  **everything** . Daddy was right, you do hate me…”

“Your Dad said that stuff to you?” You looked up at him, seeing the horror on his face. “Y-Your Dad made you break your promise?” You looked down quickly, ashamed that you had hurt him. “Oh God… Y/N, oh God, I'm so sorry…”

His arms were around you suddenly and he pulled you close to him. “I-I feel like such a horrible person, I got mad at you for breaking your promise to me, but I broke my promise to you years ago, I-I just hoped it would be different, I hoped it wouldn't count as breaking it, but you hate me, I'm sorry--”

“Jesus Christ, I don't hate you,” he argued quickly, touching your head. “Fuck, can we… can we still call the police, can we tell someone, and get you away from--?”

“No!” you cried, louder than you meant to. The two of you paused, and you took a breath. “No… no, you can't ever tell anyone about that. About m-my Dad. You have to promise me, you'll never ever tell a soul about what I told you.”

“W-Why? I don't want you around him, how can you stand to live next to that… that  **monster** ?” he asked coldly. He was angry… he was angry at your Dad, for what he had done. Not at you…

“Because they'll take me away, and they'll take Henry away, and I'll never see him again, and I'll never see you again,” you explained quickly. “Please Vic,  **please.** Promise me.” He looked unhappy, but nodded.

“I won't tell anyone…” he agreed quietly. You nodded and looked down. “I love you, Y/N… I'm sorry I didn't know, I… I wish I could have protected you, somehow, I could have been more gentle with you--”

“It's my fault that it happened…” you explained, barely loud enough for him to hear. He fell silent. “H-He said I looked like Mama… and that I was too pretty for my own good… so he had to protect me and…” You shuttered. He held onto you tightly. “I still want to… with you. But… but I ruined it…”

“No, no!” he argued, touching your arm gently. He looked around. “Um… we just… we'll wait until you're ready…”

“I am…” you said softly. He looked at you for a minute. “I just… I need to know that it's you… but I'm ready now.”

Vic wanted to so bad. He wanted to get you on your back again, and he wanted to fuck you until you were screaming his name into the night, but… he knew you couldn't do that tonight. Maybe you would never be okay enough to do that. All that mattered was that he knew that for right now, you weren't ready. “No, Y/N, you're not,” he argued gently. You gulped and looked down. “But that's okay. You don't ever have to be ready for this. You can take as much time as you need. We can work up to this as slowly as we can, and if it takes a while, so what? I'll be happy to wait.”

“But you couldn't wait before,” you pointed out. He tensed up. “I'll never be good enough for you, Vic, I'll take too long, and you'll get tired of me--”

“Y/N, I'm completely in love with you,” he cut you off, touching your face. Both of you blushed red. “I made a stupid mistake, and I hate myself for it, I'll never forgive myself for as long as I live. But from this point forward, you're the only woman I'll ever be with. Because you're the only woman I've ever loved, and that I'll ever love. If you take months? Fine. Years? Fine. Y/N, if you never feel ready for me, if we never have sex, you'll still be the only woman on the planet that I'll be with.”

You looked shocked, but happy to hear this. “R-Really…?” you wondered hopefully. That seemed crazy…. A whole life and love with Vic without sex? Your Dad said the most important part of a relationship for a man was the sex… was Vic just saying that in hopes that you'd act now? Or was he really genuine in that he loved you so much that he was willing to be abstinent for the rest of his life if it's what you needed?

“Of course. God, Y/N, of course,” he agreed, hugging you. “We're gonna get out of this town, you know? Me and you. As soon as we're 18, and out of school. I'm planning to go to college in Portland, and I'm taking you with me.”

“You are?” you asked, your heart swelling. He nodded.

“Where I go, I want you with me,” he is insisted. “And I want you as far away from this town as I can get you…”

“I want that too…” you chuckled, laying your head on his chest. He lay back, and you closed your eyes a bit, listening to his heart beat. You felt like you could die happy, right now. Nothing could possibly get better than this. Vic loved you, he wanted you, he wanted to be with you forever…. He was going to steal you away from your Dad and Henry, you wouldn't have to worry--

“Curfew!” you gasped, sitting up. Vic frowned. “Fuck, my Dad's gonna kill me… shit, I have to go.”

You started getting off his bed, but he held your hand. “No, stay… I can come up with an excuse…”

You chuckled darkly. “No excuse would be good enough to explain why I was sleeping at a boy's house,” you argued. “I wish I could, I want to…”

Vic watched you get up and put your clothes back on. He didn't want to let you go back… he felt like he was letting you down, by letting you go back to your Dad. He couldn't believe what you had told him… that your Dad had hurt you… he'd  **touched** you… he had known he was abusive, but… but this was monstrous. This was disgusting, and infuriating, and evil. To think about and hurt his own daughter like that…

Only three more years. Maybe less, if he could get his grades high enough. He would marry you, and take you away from Derry. To Portland, or maybe even farther, if he could get away with it, to Portsmouth, or Boston, or… God, anywhere was better than this hell. Anywhere would be safer for you… how could he let you go…

“I love you, Vic…” you told him, taking his hand and leaning closer to him. You were fully dressed again, and he looked up at you. “Everything will be alright… I'm… sorry, that I let you down tonight.”

“You didn't let me down, I tried to rush you,” he argued, touching your cheek. You smiled sadly.

“I'll be ready for you… soon. I promise,” you told him. You leaned down and kissed him softly, smiling. When you backed up, you kissed his cheek. “I'm… you really meant what you said? About being in love with me? And about being willing to wait? And about leaving?”

“I meant every word,” he nodded. “I promise…” You smiled lightly, and kissed him again. He kissed back, being careful to go slow and gentle. You backed up reluctantly, still smiling. “I love you…”

“Love you too, Vicky,” you said, letting go of his hand slowly. It felt like you'd been saying that for a lifetime.  **I love you** felt so right when you were saying it to him, and he was saying it to you. “I'll see you? Maybe tomorrow?”

“I hope tomorrow,” he agreed softly, watching you walk to the window and open it quietly. He got up and walked over to you, taking your hand and kissing you deeply. You sighed happily and kissed him back. He seemed like he didn't want to let you go, so you finally pulled away, keeping your nose against his.

“You're naked…” you reminded him softly. He looked down, and quickly covered himself with his hands. You winked, climbing up to the window. “My Dad works late tomorrow, if you don't see me tomorrow, call me at 5PM, okay? I can probably sneak out.”

“Alright,” he agreed, watching you climb out onto his lawn. You stayed near the window, and he went up on his toes to kiss you again. You rolled your eyes but smiled brightly, kissing him. “I love kissing you.”

“I love kissing you too… I love being near you,” you sighed, touching his cheek and staring longingly at him. You kissed him once more. “And I love you. I'll see you tomorrow.”

“I love you, more than anything,” he whispered. “Tomorrow can't come soon enough.”

You laughed a bit and stood up, waving to him as you hurried off towards the road. You knew if you stayed in the shadows, you could get home without any cops seeing you… you couldn't stop smiling though, thinking about Vic, about how happy he seemed, even though you'd let him down. He seemed content just being with you. And that felt nice. You wished you could be with him all the time, but…

You hoped your Dad would at least have gotten knock out drunk and would be passed out on the couch when you got home. Then you could convince him that you'd gotten home right after he passed out. And whatever you had coming your way wouldn't be so bad…. you could only hope….


	5. The Way Things Are Supposed To Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: SFW  
Warnings: sexism, feelings of betrayal, jealousy (if you squint or if you don’t squint), derogatory language/slurs, fiercely over-possessive behavior, manipulation, neglect, emotional neglect, verbal abuse (implied/present), implied past domestic abuse, implied past sexual abuse, PTSD, domestic abuse, violence, missing kids, Georgie Denbrough, internalized homophobia/homosexuality (??), implied possession (??)

Henry hated feeling anxious around his Dad. He hated being anxious in general, he wasn't  **supposed** to be afraid. His father always told him that he was weak, and scared, and he would never be more than he was now. He always took this as a challenge, a harsh, negative-reinforcing kind of way of trying to get him to grow a pair and act like a man, to act like  **him** . And Henry wanted to be as fearless, and as confident as his father. But he could never be  **just** like him. He could never push past the things he did to prove his strength and manhood. Henry couldn't beat the ones he cared about, not really. He got a little rough with Vic or Belch, and even you sometimes. He was a little more rough with Belch, because he knew he could take it, but he never hurt any of you enough to leave an impression. He never beat you so mercilessly that you stumbled away from him, crying and bleeding and  **dying** . He never beat you the way his Dad had beat his Mama.

And he couldn't treat you the way Dad did, either. Sure, girls were beneath him, they were slower and weaker and easier to control. But… you were his sister. He didn't see you the way Dad did. Dad had tried, on a few occasions, to make him think about you the way he did: like a woman… like a possession, like an outlet… he always insisted that you were  **theirs** , and that  **they** were the only two boys that would ever be with you. Henry didn't want that. He didn't want that at all. But he also didn't want Dad to be unhappy. He didn't want him to be angry…

So tonight he waited, anxiously clenching and unclenching his fists as he paced around the small kitchenette. You had said you were going on a  **walk** , to tell Dad that you would be home  **late** . How stupid did you think Dad was? He was going to ask Henry why he'd let you leave, and he was going to get angry at him. And he was going to take that anger out on him. Which was complete bullshit, since  **you** were the one that should be getting the beating. But you weren't here, were you? No, you were out sneaking around with a boy.  **His ** friend. Vic was going to hear about this…

That was the other thing. Vic. Vic was his best friend, the smartest out of all of them, the one he went to when he needed to get away. He had made a promise to Henry that they would get out of this town together one day, just the two of them, and leave all the bullshit of Derry behind. And now, you were saying things about leaving. The way his stomach had flipped when you said that told him that you planned to leave with Vic. That  **must** have been what you meant. What, with your new obsession over  **his** friend. Just the thought of the two of you, alone, right now. Vic was probably making love to you, the way he imagined Vic would. He was too gentle and caring on the inside to just fuck someone, he would make love to you… that was it. That's what bothered him, it wasn't that you were in love with Vic, it was the horrible idea that  **maybe** , Vic was in love with  **you** . And if he loved you, then he wasn't going to give Henry the attention he needed, and he would break his promise, and skip town with you and leave Henry behind…

There was no way he was going to let that happen. There was no way. Screw your happiness, what about  **his** ? And what about Vic? Did he know that you were--

Henry took a breath and covered his face. He didn't mean that… he didn't think less of you because of the things that Dad had done. He didn't like seeing you get hurt, he really didn't. Especially not the way Dad hurt you. But he wasn't about to get his ass beat just because you couldn't listen to the rules… if you were going to go out and disappoint Dad, then he'd have to take your place, and take responsibility. He would tell Dad the truth, and he would get Vic away from you. Everything would settle back to the way it was supposed to be: you in the house, Vic at his side.

He jumped as he heard a car pulling into the driveway, and saw a flash of headlights through the window as his Dad's police cruiser parked in front of the house. He quickly got one of the microwave dinners out of the freezer, putting it in the microwave and turning it on. He turned just as the front door opened, and he quickly looked down. “H-Hey, Dad,” he greeted. Dammit, why did he say it like that? He wasn't that little stuttering freak, he couldn't sound weak like that... His Dad just grunted and sat down to get his shoes off.

“What're you doin’?”

“Makin’ you dinner…” Henry told him. He looked up at him, and Henry gulped.

“Where's your sister?” he asked. Henry took a deep breath.

“Y/N… said she was goin’ on a walk. I figured she was just gonna walk around in the driveway the way she does, but she ain't back yet,” he explained.

“Well why the fuck ain't you out lookin’ for her?” Henry took another breath, trying to keep himself calm. His Dad stood up quickly and he winced. “Huh?! You think with some murderer runnin’ around you can just let her leave when she wants?!”

“W-Well…” He winced at the hesitance in his voice. It was just so hard to say stuff when his Dad was looking at him like he was about to kill him. “I think maybe she's with someone,” he explained. His Dad glared at him. “I-I didn't think she'd stay out after curfew… but I didn't wanna leave and have you come back and see nobody here. I figured I should wait for you to get back…”

His Dad thought then glanced at the microwave as the timer went off. Henry hurried to get the tray out, then set it on the counter. “Heard she got in a fight today,” he mumbled. “Beat up the Pharmacist's kid?” Henry nodded slowly. “What's that about?”

“I dunno… she's been actin’ weird. I know all her girl friends don't like her no more,” he told him.

“Why not?”

Henry hesitated. “I-I don't… they think she acts too much like a boy,” he said. That's really all he could understand of the situation, so what else could he say? “She's been tryin'a hang out with me and my friends.”

His Dad sat down at the counter, rubbing his hands over his face. “You ain't been lettin’ her, have you?” he sighed. Henry shook his head, watching his Dad grab the tray and pull it towards him. Henry turned to get a fork. “Good. You know I don't want no boys tryin'a hurt her.” Henry hesitated, thinking carefully about how to phrase his words. He turned and handed the fork to his Dad. “You'd tell me, right? If she's tryin'a sneak around with boys?”

He crossed his fingers a bit under the counter. “Course I would… but… Dad, I think that's the thing,” he explained. His Dad looked up at him. “She's been… askin’ why she can't date boys and stuff. And sayin’ she can if she wants to.” His Dad sat back and crossed his arms. “I told her she can't, that she ain't allowed to. But I don't know if she's listenin’. She left kinda in a hurry tonight, 'n I think maybe she was goin’ off to meet a boy.”

“She better not’a been.”

“That's why I thought I should wait here. ‘cause I thought you should know,” he pressed. His Dad nodded slowly, then leaned forward and started eating.

“Shit… I thought I made myself pretty clear on the rules…” he said with his mouth full. Henry tensed up, preparing to get reprimanded. “You got any clue who she's seein’?”

Henry thought. He didn't want to throw Vic under the bus, but… his honesty seemed to be doing the trick. And maybe if he could hold it over Vic’s head that he might actually  **die** if he kept on seeing you, he would back off, and do the right thing. “I might… she seems to like my friend Vic a lot…”

“The pretty boy one?” he wondered. Henry shrugged, nodding. “Well… glad to hear he ain't a fag after all… but thinkin’ he can steal my baby girl?” He stabbed at a piece of meat with his fork violently.

“I don't… I don't think Vic's got much to do with it really… I think he's just caught up in the wrong girl. He knows she's off limits, I always tell 'em Y/N’s off limits. But I think maybe she was… flirtin’ with him today while she went to the store…” he explained. His Dad shook his head, then sighed. “I think I could talk to Vic, make him understand that she really ain't an option, if I can explained it to him, I know he'll listen. He's smart, and he's my friend, he wouldn't ruin his life or nothin’ over her.”

His Dad thought, then nodded. “Do that. I'm not so mad about her being around 'em, but if your friends are gonna try’n steal our girl from us…” he tried. He sighed again. “Well, I guess she weren't listenin’ to me as good as I thought she was. Guess we gotta hit some sense into her, huh?” He chuckled darkly. Henry smiled nervously and nodded. “You were right to wait here for me. And you did good tellin’ me what she been doin’. Good job.” He finished his tray and stood up. Henry took it and smiled as soon as he turned to throw the tray away. “I'm glad to see you takin’ responsibility for once. I know you'd rather be out with your friends than babysittin’, but… looks like Y/N ain't as mature as I thought… looks like we really gotta keep an eye on her. And you know I work, you know I ain't around all day to watch her. I'm glad to know I got you here.”

“Y-Yeah, I'm always keepin’ an eye out for her,” he agreed. His Dad walked over to his chair and sat down.

“Good…. Wanna grab a couple beers, boy? I'm gonna need 'em,” he requested. Henry felt his stomach flip, but he nodded silently and opened the fridge, grabbing out the case of beer and bringing the whole thing over to the living room. He hesitated, not sure if he should sit down and wait for you to get home, or go to bed and avoid everything. “Go ahead and sit down.” Henry hurried across the living room, sitting in the chair farthest from the door, watching his Dad grab a can out of the case. He held it out to Henry, who looked surprised. “Take it, kid, you earned it. I'm glad to know I got you to look after your sister.”

Henry smiled a bit and took the can. “Thanks,” he said happily. His Dad took one and they both sat drinking in silence. It had been a long time since his Dad had been happy with him, since he had been rewarded and given approval. He forgot just how wonderful it felt… he never wanted this feeling to go away.

“We're gonna need a few of these, boy. Makes it easier to get your point across,” his Dad told him, grabbing another can. Henry wanted to say ' **I know** ’, but thought better of it and nodded, grabbing another as well. “You know I hate hittin’ you and your sister, don'tcha?”

“You do?” Henry asked.

“Course. Same as I hated hittin’ your mother,” he explained. Henry felt his blood run cold. “But someone's gotta keep y’all in line… I'm the man’a the house, it's my job to keep this house straight. And you got my temper, I know that. And Y/N… she got your mother's attitude and free spirit. Both of 'em are beautiful until they get outta line.” He took another sip. “You ever plan on gettin’ married, Henry?”

“Um… I dunno, sir,” he told him honestly.

“Well let me tell you somethin’. And this is somethin’ my father told me when I was around your age. I was a troublemaker like you, and my Dad would slap me around. And he said you always think, when you get married, that you'd never,  **ever** hurt her, or your kids. But then, you see 'em doin’ things they ought’a not be doin’ and you gotta man up and beat 'em into place. It's harsh, but someday, you and Y/N are gonna see why I did it. You're gonna be smarter, and stronger, and you're gonna know that if you mess up, life is just gonna smack you back into place. You’ll have a wife of your own, one day, and you'll see what I mean.” Henry nodded slowly. “Your mother’s too… independent, for a woman. She thought she could do better than us, and she was too weak to stay here with her family. You know where she is now, kid?”

“No,” Henry told him. This was rare. His Dad rarely talked to him, and he  **never** talked about Mama… he had had so many questions for so long, only filled in with assumptions and his Dad's occasional comments. 

“She’s down near Kittery. Some little town called South Berwick, right near New Hampshire,” he explained. “She got herself a new husband, a couple’a new kids….” Henry frowned a bit, feeling his heart clench in his chest. He had hoped it wasn't true, that he his assumptions were wrong. But no…

When his mother had left, there had been a short court hearing, where Dad got full custody of both of you, and he had accused her of neglecting her children. The judge was an old friend of his, and it had been a quick trial. Henry hadn't even know what neglect meant at the time. But now he understood. After the hearing, you had both said quick goodbyes to your mother, who had promised that she would come and take you to a safe, happy home as soon as she could.

Six years… six fucking years he had waited, and waited, and he knew you had to. And she had never come for you. Each year it became more and more clear that she wasn't going to come for you, that she had broken her promise. He held hope that maybe she was saving money, maybe she was trying to get back custody, maybe she had gotten sick and had had to hold off on getting you. Now he knew why she had never come. She had forgotten about you both. Her own son, her own daughter. She had left you for dead, and had married some prick, and had started a new family. She was never going to come for you. She didn't care about you anymore.

Henry could feel how tensely he was holding his can, and he brought his head back to drink. “We're better off without her anyways,” his Dad told him, watching him. “But that's why I'm being so protective of your sister. Because she's just like your mother, and if she finds a boy, she's gonna try'n leave, and make herself a new family. She'll probably run to her mother, you know? I ain't about to lose my little girl. I'm tryin'a keep this family together, Henry, but it's hard. That's why I'm relyin’ on you to keep her safe, and keep her here. You'll explain all this to her, won't you? You'll tell her the truth?”

Henry nodded. “Yes, sir,” he agreed. He was still angry about his mother, and now he felt defensive about Y/N. All Dad wanted was for you to stay. He had thought he was just being over-protective, but now he knew. He was trying to keep you here, where you belonged.

“And you understand why I gotta teach her a lesson when she gets back, right? Why I'm gonna have to hit her?” he pressed.

Henry hesitated, then nodded again. “Yes, sir,” he said again. His Dad nodded, and started on a third beer. Henry followed shortly. He was offered a cigarette, which he took, and he sat with his Dad, smoking and drinking, talking about whether or not he was going to join the force when he got out of high school. This was the way things were supposed to be. He wasn't going to dare disobey his father anymore, at least not openly. He was going to be more careful, and make a good image for himself. He was going to make things right at home, he was going to get things back to the way they should be with Vic, and he was going to keep you in line, the way his father wanted.

He looked up at the front door as it opened carefully, and he saw you staring into the living room at them, frightened. As you should be.

Dad hadn't looked up at you yet, taking another drag of his cigarette, then leaning forward to tap it into the ashtray on the coffee table. Four beers in, his face was starting to get a little red, and Henry wondered if he looked similar, and if his Dad felt as warm and tipsy as he felt.

“You're home late,” his father said calmly. This was always how it started. Keep calm, give you a chance to confess and grant yourself the gift of a lesser punishment. You were hugging yourself, staring between him and Henry. “Wanna tell me where you've been?”

You opened your mouth to speak, and he could see tears forming in your eyes. Dad stood up quickly, mildly startling him, and causing you to jump a bit and stumble back, looking down. He walked over to you and looked down at you expectantly. “Huh? Where’ve you been, Y/N?” he repeated. You still didn't say anything and Henry shook his head a bit. “You been out with a boy?”

“N-No,” you lied. God, it was so  **obvious** that you were lying! Is that what it looked like when he lied? Is that why Dad was so good at reading through him? Was he  **that** obvious?

“No?” Dad wondered. He grabbed your arm and leaned closer to you. “So why’dya smell like you been with a boy?” You hiccuped as you started crying and Henry watched his father grab at a little flower in your hair and rip it out with a few strands. “And what's this shit?” He crushed your daisy in his hand and tossed it aside before bring his hand back and smack you in the face. It was mesmerizing now. It didn't scare him the way it used to. He understood now  **why** you needed to be hit. You needed to learn what it felt like to break the rules.  **He** would never break the rules again, not in front of Dad, not in such an idiotic way. You sobbed loudly and held your cheek, starting to whimper about how sorry you were. “If you were sorry, you wouldn'ta done it. What'd he do to you, my poor girl? How did he hurt you?”

You started playing with your shorts. “H-He didn't hurt me, Daddy, w-we just had ice cream and talked…” you told him. Another lie. Henry could tell. It earned you another slap, on your other cheek, and you gasped, cowering away from Dad a little. It was sort of fun, seeing it from this perspective. You were always the good kid, you only ever got a few slaps and hit, and a kind of special punishment that Henry somehow never remembered the details of after it happened. Something bad, that made him feel defensive of you when Dad talked to you about underwear, or asked you to lay in bed with him. It couldn't be that bad, could it? Dad wouldn't go so far as to… go all the way with you… would he? No… no, Dad would never do that. Punishments were for your own good, that's what he had just said. He was trying to teach you both to be smarter and stronger people, there was no reason for him to hurt you like  **that** .

It had been a long time since you had gotten a 'special punishment’, so you had just been left with bruised cheeks and the occasional split lip. Never the extensive cuts and bruises and welts that Henry had to suffer through. Some sick part of him was excited to make you see how it felt.

“Why're you lyin’ to me, baby?” Dad sighed. “Did he put you on his bed and do the things other boys aren't supposed to do to you?” You seemed to freeze up, and you closed your eyes, taking a breath.

“He tried… B-But I didn't let him keep going. I told him to stop,” you explained. Your Dad's gaze darkened. “A-And he did, Daddy, he did! He said he didn't wanna hurt me, and he stopped and said I didn't have to do nothin’ if I didn't wanna, if I weren't ready…”

“You won't ever be ready for that!” your Dad snapped. You whimpered again, and he touched your cheek. “My poor baby… what’ve I told you about staying away from boys? And look at you, you break my one rule and you get raped…” He tsked. “Tell me his name, sweetheart, I'll lock him in jail for life.”

“Daddy, he didn't rape me,” you insisted. “I-I told him he could…”

The soft hand on your face turned to a harsh grip on your chin. “And why did you let him do that?” he spat. You gulped.

“I-It felt nice…” you admitted. “It didn't hurt like you said it would, h-he touched me and it felt good…”

“No… no it didn't, sweetheart, you don't understand…” he sighed. “Did he touch you in the places that I showed you? The places I said should never be touched.” Henry could see your face go blank and you nodded. “When a boy touches you like that, he's making you ready for  **him** . Sex only feels good for boys, remember? It's only supposed to be done between a husband and a wife.”

“So why--?” you started, choking on your words as you stared off into space.

“It's my job to show you. I wasn't doing it for me, sweetheart, I only showed you what you shouldn't let boys do,” he explained. “It hurt, didn't it?”

You didn't respond right away, looking down. “Not when Vic did it…” you said softly.

You gasped as your Dad grabbed your neck and shoved you back against the door. “I thought you understood me, Y/N. I thought I could trust you, I thought you were my good kid, you're supposed to be my fuckin’ good kid!” he snapped. You started crying again and grabbed his hand. “I hoped to God your brother was lyin’ when he said you’d run off with a boy. I hoped it weren't true. You broke my heart, baby, why would you hurt me like this?”

You sniffed. “I'm sorry, Daddy…” you told him softly.

“I appreciate you tellin’ me at least part of the truth. I'm glad you're smart enough to know that,” he started. “But I am  **very** disappointed in you, baby… I've never been so disappointed…”

“I'm sorry…”

“And now I have to punish you, Y/N,” he continued. You tensed up and whimpered. He sighed. “I don't know what to do with you… do I gotta give you another special punishment to show you why you can't let boys touch you--”

“No! No, I'm so sorry, I understand, I won't ever let a boy touch me again, Daddy, I swear!” you begged, feeling his hand tense up against your throat. He nodded slowly.

“You promise?”

“Promise! I promise!” you sobbed. He touched your cheek again, wiping away a tear.

“Alright… but you still broke the rules, and ran off with a boy, and that ain't somethin’ I'm just gonna let go,” he told you seriously. You closed your eyes tightly, whining as his grip on your throat tightened to the point that you couldn't breathe.

Then, the hand he had been using to wipe your tears moved back and you felt his fist slam into your face. He had let go of your throat in enough time that you fell to the floor from the force of the punch. You touched your cut cheekbone with a shaking hand, and tried to move away from him. He grabbed your arm and kicked you in the stomach, making you cry out. He wasn't holding back, you could tell. He was hitting you with the same strength as when he hit Henry. He grabbed your collar and punched your face over and over, until your ears were ringing, and your vision was blurry, and you could feel blood dripping out of your mouth, and you felt your nose snap. You cried out weakly, and he threw you on the ground.

“Boy, come here,” he said to Henry. Henry stood up quickly, and you took the moment to rest as much as you could. “I want you to see how it feels… go ahead and hit her or kick her or somethin’. Don't be gentle, she's done somethin’ wrong, you know how it feels to be punished for that.”

Henry nodded, then stared at you. He had protected you for so long, trying to keep you away from getting beaten, but you had broken Dad’s rules… you deserved this as much as he did when he got beaten. He kept that in his head as he kicked you in the side a few times. Then your Dad undid his belt, pulling it out of the loops and starting to whip you with it while your brother kept kicking you. You kept your hands and arms over your face to avoid anymore damage to your nose or eyes.

Was this worth it? You had known the risk when you decided to start dating Vic, he did too. But was he worth this…? Now, not only was your father against you, but Henry was on his side. You had no one to protect you, no one to stand up for you… was Vic worth the pain, the beatings, the disappointment…?

You closed your eyes tightly and tried to imagine him. What would he do if he were here…? You could see him drag Henry off of you and knock him out, then grab your Dad's shotgun from next to the door and point it at your Dad, helping you up and taking you out of this nightmare, saving you from all of this pain, and taking you far away. Vic was worth this… because Vic would never hurt you like this… he was going to save you…

You weren't sure exactly when they stopped, but you heard your Dad tell Henry to talk to Vic, tell him that he was never allowed to be alone with you again, and to make sure he saw how they'd left you. Henry agreed, and that's when your brain started getting fuzzy, and your vision faded as you blacked out.

**\---**

Henry had helped you clean up, he had dressed your wounds, and then carried you to bed. Dad told him that this was a part of this severe of a punishment, especially with someone as weak and fragile as you.

He had slept well that night, his belly full of beer, and his heart swollen with the love and praise he was finally getting from his father. It felt too good to let go.

His dreams were of his mother. Of how she had looked before she left, in a similar state as you right now. All this time, he had been terrified of the beaten image of his mother. But now, he was the one beating her. Punishing her for leaving and tearing their family apart. Then, something in the dream changed. Somehow, he found himself with a knife in his hand, stabbing her over and over again.

He had had dreams like this before… they had started around rainy season last August, around the time the Denbrough brat went missing. He had had dreams of tearing the kid apart, then of the next missing kid, then the next. Patrick's disappearance was different. The dream he had left him angry, and bitter. It had been an ode to the horrible time in the junkyard, when they had been a little drunk, and Patrick had put his hands down Henry's jeans, and touched him. The dream had been violent, as usual, with him, tearing Patrick apart. Except for the end, where his mutilated friend had gotten on his knees, and thanked him for setting him free. Dream-Henry had unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock, forcing it into his bloody, now rotting friend's mouth and somehow getting off to it. He had woken up in semen-stained boxers, still erect. It had been disturbing to him, more disturbing than the killing and the mutilating. Patrick was a  **boy** . He was more or less his friend, he had never liked him as anything more, and why would he? He wasn't gay.

But the dream had awoken a problem within him that he thought he had buried. He had gotten off to Patrick's touch in real life, and in the dream, but  **why** ? He should have been disgusted, he  **was** , Patrick hadn't had his permission to jack him off. But he had still cum. And then he had dreamed of making him give him a blow job….

He had tried to forget this dilemma, sinking back into the routine of tearing the missing children apart in his dreams. It made him angry, scared, even, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. He suffered through. But tonight, it felt good. He was grinning his his dream, as he stabbed his mother until she died. Then he could see you, standing in front of him, begging you to save him. And he stabbed you, right in the heart. And he tore you apart. But you weren't missing… it was his choice to tear you apart, this was what he  **wanted** to do. Now his Dad would give him all of his positive attention, now Vic would be all his, and they couldn't love you the way they were supposed to love  **him** .

As soon as you laid dead on the ground at his feet, he felt his father clap a hand on his shoulder, smiling down at him proudly. “Good job, boy…” he told him.

The image of his father disappeared, and instead, came the image of Vic jumping into his arms. “I never meant to hurt you, Henry,” he said, sounding soft and guilty. “I'm sorry, Henry, I'm sorry I disobeyed you. I only love you, Henry.”

“I love you too, Vic,” he told him.

And then they kissed.

He shifted in his sleep. No… no, that wasn't right… he didn't love Vic, Vic was his friend. They shouldn't be kissing so sweetly… but God, he could smell him as if he were really there, a intoxicating mix of cigarettes and peppermint and pine. He could feel his delicate hands touching his cheek and playing with his hair… but this, he couldn't quite feel. He felt his lips, so soft and plump and wet, against his own but not as much as he wanted to, he could taste him, but he couldn't quite taste him. He wanted to know what it felt like to kiss Vic, he  **craved** it. He wanted you out of the way so that Vic could be his….

He woke up with a gasp that morning, sitting up and covering his mouth. His Dad was still snoring, and you were completely silent in your bed. He uncovered his mouth, but touched his fingers to his lips, closing his eyes slowly. He bet Vic tasted like peppermints…

He opened his eyes quickly and shook his head. What the hell? What kind of fucking dream was that? Why had it been so good, when it had been so wrong. He wasn't some queer, he wasn't in love with Vic, why the fuck would he care if he tasted like peppermint?

He got up carefully and went into the bathroom, splashing water on his face and taking a breath. No more disobeying Dad. At least not obviously. That was all he needed to focus on, keep you in line, make sure Vic was clear that you were completely off limits to him, make sure he was still his  **friend** , and keep the peace so that Dad would give him more of the wonderful attention he had given him last night.

That was all he wanted, right?


	6. Six Years Ago, Yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 6, 239  
Rating: SFW  
Warnings: mention of abuse, implied past domestic abuse, PTSD, domestic abuse, bullying, racism (I’m not going to ignore it, Henry’s racist and it’s addressed)

You felt like you had lost someone…

Henry had never been brotherly, the two of you were never friends, but you had  _ always _ had each other's backs. For him to start taking your father's side on things… it hurt more than the beating they had put you through. It made you feel alone. That's what they wanted and you knew it, but you couldn't help it, especially when you could barely move because of the injuries you'd sustained.

You watched Henry move around quickly as he refilled your water cup and got two painkiller pills out of a kitchen cupboard. At least you got this. Henry finally got the attention he wanted, at your expense, and now he was stuck at home with you for the day taking care of you instead of taking advantage of the nice summer day. So a small win for you, at least.

“How's your wrist?” he asked coldly, walking back over to you and holding out the pills. You winced as you held out your hand for them, and he dropped them in it. “We should wrap it. In case it's sprained.”

“Sure,” you mumbled, taking the glass from him as well. You took the painkillers and watched him sit on the couch heavily. “Should we get the doctor? Because of my ribs?”

He just shrugged staring ahead silently. “I never get a doctor, why should you?” he told you after a while. You glared at him.

“Why’re you actin’ like that?” you wondered. “Why’re you takin’ Dad's side, why’re you treatin’ me like shit?”

“'cause it's about damn time Dad saw who the real fuck up is,” he scoffed. Your mouth fell open. “I been gettin’ beat my whole fuckin’ life, while you been the perfect little princess. It's about time Dad saw what I'm willin’ to do for him.”

Your entire body was on fire, but you managed to cross your arms and sit up a bit. “I didn't  _ ask _ for him to treat me better. I'd rather he  _ didn't _ , I wish he would treat us the same, but he ain't gonna, so we gotta stick together when it comes to this stuff, remember, Hen?” you reminded him. He didn't look at you. You knew he was trying to block out the past. Your Dad had said something to him yesterday to make him turn on you, you just didn't know what he had said. Whatever it was, you had to remind Henry that without you, he had no one, and without him, neither did you. You had to remind him that Dad was out to hurt the both of you. “Please… things weren't always like this, remember, he used to be nicer to us, just a little? He never really hit us when Mama was here, he just yelled.”

“Yeah. But she ain't here,” he mumbled.

“I know… but she used to be…” You thought. “I know I was a baby back then, maybe a year or a year and a half. And you were around two… but I remember how you always used to tell me about how happy you were when Dad back from Nam? You were so little, I mean, you were only  _ two _ , or maybe three but you remember it, you remember being so happy about him being home,” you tried. Henry glanced at you and nodded. “And things were good then, just for a little while, even I remember that. We tried to take that trip to Acadia, but we took a real wrong turn somewhere and ended up at Moosehead Lake instead. And Dad taught you how to swim…” A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth and you gulped. “But… then he started gettin’ mad at Mama… you remember how she used to try’n hide it, but we knew.” He frowned deeply now, looking down. “He started sayin’ stuff about the Communists and chasin’ us around sayin’ we were Viet Cong and stuff. And we thought it was a game till one of us’d get hit. And Mama would have to talk him down, but he'd just end up hittin’ her…”

“What're you talkin’ about, Y/N?” he asked coldly.

“I just want you to remember that… that he changed. He ain't the same man. He ain't our Dad like he was when he taught you to swim and stuff, or when he came home from the war. Now he don't even talk to us like he's our Dad. It's like we're just here… and he's so angry, and he takes it out on us… on you… You still wanna make him happy, but he don't even care about us. He hurts us, and he's manipulative and selfish--”

“You just can't stand the thought that maybe I’m better than you for once,” he cut you off, turning and glaring at you. “He cares about us, Y/N, he beats us to keep us in line. Said  _ his _ Dad used to hit him and taught him that sometimes you gotta hit the ones you love to keep 'em where they oughta be.”

You blinked and shook your head. “That's not right… Henry, he's just saying that to make excuses, he does it because he's hateful, and horrible, and disgusting--”

“Don't talk about Dad like that!” he snapped. You winced and frowned. “You wouldn't understand, Y/N, you're too young to understand.”

“That's what he wants you to say! You know I'm right, please!” you cried. He licked his lips and looked away. “I know you know because we both used to pray every night that Mama would come back and take us away--”

“But we ain't prayin’ for her no more, are we?” he pointed out coldly. You hesitated and gulped.

“She could still come, Henry,” you insisted. He laughed a bit and shook his head. “She could! She just… needs more time…”

“You ain't  _ really _ that stupid, are you?” he scoffed. You stared at him, shaking your head. “Mama ain't never gonna come for us. She got a new family, Y/N.” You felt your heart freeze over and you knew tears welled up in your eyes, but you kept shaking your head. “She got married to a new guy, she had new kids. She got a better, nicer family down near New Hampshire, and she don't care about us no more. It's  _ her _ that don't care, not  _ Dad _ . We been waitin’ for somethin’ that ain't comin’, Y/N.” He brought his fist to his mouth and ran his knuckles across his lips angrily, watching you let his words sink in. He saw your split lip tremble, and tears start falling from your blackened eyes. “Stop cryin’. We can't cry about it, we gotta stay strong and live out the next three years.”

“Mama's not comin’ for us…?” you whimpered, grabbing onto the arms of your chair anxiously. Henry looked up at you. “B-But she promised, she said she'd get us…”

“She lied. She don't care about us,” he insisted. You looked down, shaking a little.

“H-How do you know?” you wondered softly.

“Dad told me. I think he's known for a while where she's been, he just didn't wanna tell us…” he explained more quietly.

“Where is she?” you pressed.

“I already told you, stupid, she's with her perfect new family,” he snapped. “Some, pretty little southern Maine town called South Berwick. He said it's near Kittery…”

“W-Well we can go there! We can go down to South Berwick, and--” you choked on a sob. “And we can find her, and we can make her remember us--”

“Y/N, she didn't just forget about us! She don't  _ care _ about us!” he shouted. You froze and stared at him. “ _ We _ \-- me and you --weren’t good enough for her! We knew things weren't good between her and Dad, like you said, he started sayin’ crazy shit about Vietnam and beatin’ up on her and--” He cut himself off with a shake of his head. “…But she didn't even stay for  _ us _ . She didn't take us with her. She  _ left us _ . She never  _ loved us _ , Y/N, we're  _ nothin’ _ to her!”

You felt your lip trembling about. “Nothin’...?” you whispered.

“Nothin’. We're the biggest mistake she ever made, us and Dad. Leavin’ us behind meant she could move on and have the life she wanted to have,  _ without _ us. She's  _ never _ gonna come for us,” he insisted, his voice getting quieter as he finished. He looked down quickly and crossed his arms over his chest.

A solemn silence set in once he finished. You curled up in your chair, not facing him, but not crying either, swallowing down every wave of tears that threatened to come. Henry just stared at the ground, feeling his anger over the situation reignite.

“That was yesterday…” you whispered suddenly, not turning to face him. He looked over at you.

“What was yesterday?” he questioned.

“The day Mama left,” you explained softly. He frowned deeply as he thought about this. “Six years ago yesterday… she left the night of June 29th, 1983.”

“Guess so,” he agreed, crossing his arms. “Six years ago yesterday... And six years ago today, we sat in that window after Dad went to work, and we sat there all day and waited for Mama to walk back down the driveway.” He nodded towards the front window. You sat back up and looked at your hands. “We were kids then, we didn't get it. We didn't get that we were all alone. But we get it now. Right?”

You didn't look up at him, focusing on your slightly bruised wrist, and your short-bitten fingernails. “Yeah. We get it,” you agreed. “She never loved us. She ain't comin’ back…”

Henry stared at you for a moment, then nodded and stood up. He walked past you, going to the kitchen and opening the fridge. You didn't look up at him, trying to stay hopeful. You just needed to put your hope somewhere else, if you couldn't put it on Mama…. It was nothing to cry over you had known for a while, deep down, that she wasn't coming to get you… it was nothing to cry about…

“Vic ain't gonna save you, neither.”

You looked over at Henry when he said this, and you blinked, blushing a little and looking back down. “Trust me. Vic's got his own life he gotta live, he don't need you gettin’ in the way…” He hesitated. “I ain't gonna beat him up, 'cause he's my friend and all. But I swear to God, Y/N, you keep on tryin'a seduce him or whatever, and you're gonna  _ really _ pay for it.”

With that, he walked out to go sit on the porch, with what you could see was a can of beer in his hands. Tomorrow, he would be able to go out with his friends again. With Vic. And you would be stuck here, alone, inside, struggling to move with your bruised body and beaten face. You knew you were going to have to hide until the bruises went away. That's how it went, no one saw the bruises, Dad didn't get in trouble. That's how it always went.

Vic didn't call that night, like he had promised he would. You had hoped he wouldn't, since Henry would be the one to answer the phone. But still, it made you feel even worse. As five o'clock came and went, you stared aimlessly at the telephone, then sighed and stood up painfully, limping towards the bathroom to get yourself ready for bed. You took one look at yourself in the mirror and burst into tears again. Henry had cleaned you up and bandaged you this morning, but he had sit you down in the chair you had spent the day in, and you hadn't gotten a look at the damage.

Your face was beaten badly, both eyes bruised and slightly swollen. Your nose was purpled, a small splint-bandage across to keep the bone that Henry had snapped back into place from moving. Your lower lip was split open, and your cheeks were cut up and bruised. Your throat had bruises from being grabbed as well…. And when you lifted up your shirt, you could see the almost black bruise over your ribs, which Henry said we're probably fractured.  _ He _ had done that...

The rest of your torso was covered in welts and bruises and cuts. You knew your wrist was sprained as well, you could feel it every time you moved it. Henry had never gotten around to bandaging it, so you went into the medicine cabinet and pulled out a roll of bandages, carefully wrapping them from your mid-forearm to your knuckles, careful to get your thumb in a position that didn't hurt too bad. Once it was wrapped and you'd tied it off, you looked into the mirror again. You wondered at what point Mama had decided she needed to leave. Had she been threatening to leave before the beating, or had the beating made the decision for her?

You wiped your tears off your face on the back of your bandaged hand and took a breath. You weren't sorry for her anymore… not when you'd been put through what she'd been through. Not when you stayed. You'd been through ten times worse, and you stayed. That's what you told yourself anyway. You weren't going to pity her, or look up to her anymore. She wasn't there for you, she had let you down and forgotten you. You had done everything on your own so far, you would be fine. You would stay strong and persevere. Even if you didn't have Henry anymore.

**\---**

Vic had sat on his bed, staring at his phone for five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen, on and on. He had known five o’clock had passed, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to dial your number. What if you weren't alone? What if you hadn't answered the phone? What if you had gotten in trouble last night?

He had glanced at his clock and saw 5:45PM, and he had sighed, laying back on his bed and covering his face with his arms. He had felt like he was letting you down, but he hadn't wanted to risk getting you hurt, if he hadn't gotten you hurt already… he would see you tomorrow. He would see you when he and Belch came and got Henry tomorrow….

But he didn't.

The next day, Henry had come outside as soon as they pulled in the driveway, and he had kicked Vic out of the front seat shortly. Vic had climbed quickly into the back, and had looked back at the house to see if he could see you through the window, but he couldn't.

“She’s getting laundry together today,” Henry had explained. Vic had looked forward, seeing his friend glaring at him. “Since she couldn't do it the other night.”

Vic hadn't responded to it. He had known what that meant, Henry hadn't even needed to explain or clarify what he meant, he could see it in the way he glared at him, that he knew you and Vic had been together ‘the other night’. It wasn't addressed anymore than that. Henry must have assumed that Vic knew not to make the mistake of seeing his sister again.

The rest of the day hadn't gone as Henry had planned. They had seen Mike Hanlon go by the Bowers’ house on his bike, a package of lamb meat on his handlebars to deliver to some of the local businesses before his paper run, and had chased him and cut him off with Belch's car, grabbing him and dragging him down the Barrens. Henry had grabbed the lamb meat, and had thrown it down on the rocks as he and Belch had started roughing the kid up a bit.

Henry had been extremely violent with him that day, and when he got overly violent, Belch didn't go easy either. They had kicked the kid onto the ground and had shoved his face down into the raw meat. Vic knew Henry picked on the kid for racially biased reasons, and that always made him hesitant to take too much part in the attacks on Hanlon. His own Dad had been a part of the burning of the Black Spot back in ‘62, and he had always promised himself he would never be like that… but it was hard to be around Henry and not racially profile… Henry had, at some point in his youth, developed a deep, raging  _ hatred _ for anyone with a skin tone that was anything darker than the “normal” person’s, a caucasian person's. The dictionary would define it as  _ racism _ , but a while back, Patrick had insisted that that was too political and Henry needed to be what he needed to be.

And that day, Henry had been spitting on the kid, kicking him, calling him the most horrible names, and Belch had gone right along with it-- although he had had enough sense not to use some of the names Henry was using, knowing how uncomfortable Vic got --while Vic tried his best to stay involved, because God knows, if he disobeyed Henry, there would be hell to pay...

After harrassing the kid for a while, the Loser kids showed up across the bank and started pelting them with rocks to get the Hanlon kid over to them. A rock fight had ensued, and Vic and Belch had quickly fallen back, overwhelmed from being outnumbered. They had run back to Belch's car quickly, and had tried to catch their breath.

Vic had winced, pulling up his sleeve and looking at the bright red mark from where the scrawny little sick kid had hit him with a rock, and sighing. “That stupid bitch got me right in the face,” Belch had hissed, touching his bruised and bleeding nose with a wince. “Who do those brats think they are, huh?”

“I dunno, I didn't even think they hung out with Hanlon,” Vic had mumbled, rubbing his arm absentmindedly.

“Me neither. Guess we gotta watch out for 'em  _ all _ now, huh, Henry?” Belch had wondered, looking up and around. He froze. “Vic?”

“Yeah.”

“Where's Henry?”

Vic had watched Belch start panicking as they realized that they had left their friend behind, thinking that he would  _ kill _ them when he got to them. They had barely had to wait five minutes before he had stormed up the hill, looking shell-shocked.

“Henry! Fuck, you a’right?” Belch had asked, hurrying over to him. Henry had held up his hand to shut him up, staring blankly ahead as he had walked to the passenger seat of the car and had gotten in. Belch had looked at Vic in confusion, then hurried to the driver's seat. Vic got in the back and looked over at Henry, seeing him staring at his lap now. Belch had started the car and started driving quickly. After a moment, he had cleared his throat. “S-Sorry for leavin’, Henry. We thought you was right behind us….” Henry hadn't responded, just staring blankly at his lap. “Wh-Where’d you wanna go now?”

“Home,” he had responded coldly. Belch had driven there quickly, and had stopped in front of the house. Henry hadn't moved right away, staring at his knuckles in his lap. Belch didn't say anything, glancing back at Vic worriedly. Vic watched Henry curiously, waiting for him to talk. 

“We're gonna get those Losers…” Henry had finally said, quietly. “We're gonna make 'em pay for this… they're gonna wish they never fuck with us… I'll see you guys tomorrow…”

With that he had gotten out of the car and gone inside.

Vic didn't see you for something like two weeks after that. He saw Henry almost every day, and every day he seemed to be a little less… okay. A little more off. His temper was a little shorter and his ideas were more violent. He insisted that he was gonna kill the Loser brats by the end of the summer.

“Say Henry, where’re we headed today?” Belch wondered as he waited on the porch. Henry was grabbing a couple beers out of the fridge for them. “It's gonna be hot as hell out, that's what the weather guy said.”

“Quarry then. I'm tired’a sweatin’ my balls off all day,” he scoffed.

You were listening to them from the laundry closet, while you folded your Dad and brother’s clean clothes. You wanted to ask to go with them, but you knew it was out of the question. You set their clothes aside and grabbed the sheets and towels out of the wash, putting them in a basket and walking out of the laundry room.

Henry was handing Belch and Vic their cans of beer when you walked out. They looked up as you walked over to the door and they looked a little surprised to see your healing bruises. “Hey, Y/N,” Belch said.

“Hi,” you mumbled, trying to walk past them quickly.

“Where're my clothes?” Henry wondered, grabbing your arm. You sighed and tugged your arm out of his grip.

“In the laundry room, I'll put 'em away once I get these up on the line,” you explained, trying to walk away. You felt Henry yank you back by your ponytail, and you cried out a little in pain, and dropped the basket on the porch, relieved that it at least landed upright.

“Ya show Vic your bruises?” he teased, pulling your head up so they could see the yellowing bruises around your eyes and nose. You saw how horrified Vic looked, and tried to turn your head away.

“Let go, Henry,” you said softly.

“What about the ones on your ribs?” he spat, trying to pull up your shirt to show him. You bent yourself so that he couldn't pull your shirt up, even though it sent shooting pain across your ribs.

“Henry, stop it!” you cried, trying to elbow him back. He had been getting more violent with you, too, but of course Vic hadn't seen that yet. Henry grabbed your hair again, and yanked back. “Stop!”

“Just fuckin’ show him what he did to you!” he insisted. You managed to kick him in the shin and he let go of your arm, but yanked you back by your hair hard enough that you fell back. “Why you gotta be fuckin’ stubborn, Y/N?! You didn't have no problem takin’ your clothes off for him before?!”

“Woah, what?!” Belch asked, standing back against the wall. You could see that he was terrified by the situation, knowing that he couldn't help beat you up, but not sure if he should step in and help you.

“Vic fucked my sister, Belch, you didn't know?” Henry laughed. “I would’a thought she'd gone’n fucked you too, since she's such a little slut!”

“Henry, knock it off! You're acting like a fuckin’ brat!” you snapped at him, trying to get his fingers out of your hair. He only grabbed you harder. You pushed yourself up and threw a punch at his face. This made him let go, and he stumbled back a bit in surprise. You stood up and glared at him.

“You… you little fuckin’--” he started, coming at you again. You brought your fist back and really punched him, getting him right in the nose, not nearly hard enough to break it, but enough that he stumbled back again, and tripped and fell back in stunned silence. You huffed and grabbed your laundry basket, going down the steps and walking towards the lines. You didn't give a second glance to Henry, or Belch, as he stared at you in surprise, or Vic as he reached out for you.

You felt slightly heartbroken about Vic. You had figured he would make at least some effort to come and see you during the last two weeks. He and Belch had been to the house to get Henry every day, and you hadn't seen him once. He didn't call, he didn't come to the house when he knew you were home alone. Nothing. It made you feel like he hadn't meant anything he had said, about not being able to be apart from you. Clearly he was doing just fine…

You started putting your laundry on the line. When you had come back from his house that night, and you'd been beaten, you'd thought that he was worth the pain… but everyday waiting for him had felt like more pain, and less worth it. You felt betrayed. You knew it wasn't entirely his fault. It wasn't easy to see you, you weren't allowed anywhere… but he hadn't even tried…

But you knew it wasn't his fault. It wasn't easy to sneak around Henry, and he was probably walking on eggshells already. He just needed you to take the initiative. You could put in a little effort, you thought, you could go and see him.

You waited until that night, when Henry was back home, but Dad was away visiting his girlfriend, to try anything. You knew Henry would get you later for sneaking out, but you had to know what Vic's deal was. You had to know why he hadn't even  _ tried _ to see you. And then you would kiss him and everything would be better. Easy.

It wasn't as hard as you'd thought it would be to sneak out. Henry passed out on the couch around ten, and you moved silently out of your room, slowly getting your sneakers on, then carefully opening the door enough that you could slide outside, then shutting it. Then you ran down the driveway.

As soon as you were on the main road, you started walking, kicking gravel with your dirty white sneakers. The shadows were out again tonight, but you weren't going to fear them. You were going to use them. You knew there were always cops patrolling the streets after curfew, so you used the shadows to hide you as you made your way towards Vic's house.

In Derry, there were rumors of children disappearing into the shadows, never to be heard of again. But you weren't afraid of that either. Not really. You wouldn't have to live with your Dad if you disappeared. That didn't sound so bad…

You stopped at the end of Vic's street, seeing a cop car idling on the other side of the road. You looked around, then snuck into a neighbor's yard, moving along their back fence and jumping over it to get to Vic's yard. Then you crept over to his bedroom window. He was inside, laying on his bed in his pants and without a shirt. You couldn't tell if he was asleep or not at first, he was lying so still, but his thumb was running over his other hand absentmindedly.

You took a breath and tapped on the glass. He stopped moving for a moment, so you tapped again. Now he looked up, and he jumped off the bed quickly, starting towards the window, then hesitating and hurrying to his bedroom door, locking it. Then he hurried back over to the window, opening it silently. You slid yourself in, and he held your waist to get you inside, setting you on the floor carefully. He turned and closed the window again, then turned to look at you, looking both excited and terrified.

“How did you get here?” he whispered.

“I walked,” you told him.

“No, I mean… your Dad, and Henry? How did you get past them?” he clarified.

“Dad's near Bangor, seein’ Rena. And Henry fell asleep, so I snuck out,” you explained, taking his hands. “You didn't call me.”

He blinked. “I-I know… I'm sorry. I didn't want you to get back hurt…” he tried. Then he hesitated. “I guess I didn't do a very good job…” He brought his hand to your face and brushed his thumb under your eye. You winced a little. “I'm sorry… I didn't want this…”

“It's okay, Vic…” you told him, going up on your toes to kiss him. “You're worth it…”

He didn't know how to feel about that, and put his arms around you protectively. “I don't want to be the reason for this…” he said softly.

“You're not,” you shrugged. “But I came here to get away from that…” You touched his arm and looked down a little. “Do you still love me?”

“Of course,” he agreed, looking worried. “More than anything…” He brought his hand to your cheek, trying to get you to look at him. You brought your gaze to him, and he smiled softly. “A few days apart isn't gonna make that change.”

You smiled a little at him and went up on your toes again slightly, pressing your lips to his. He sighed a bit and kissed you, keeping his hand on your cheek and the other on your hip, careful to keep them in place. You moved your lips away from his and kept your eyes closed for a moment. “Can we lay down…?” you whispered. He nodded silently and moved closer to his bed. You sat down and pulled off your shoes while he lay down behind you. You felt his hand on your lower back and you smiled a bit, setting your shoes at the end of his bed and moving back, laying down and turning so you could put your head against his chest. He brought his arms around you and held you.

“Have you been alright? These last few weeks?” he asked softly. You shrugged. “Nobody's… hurt you too bad, right?”

You moved back and looked at him a bit. “You mean my Dad?” you guessed. He shrugged and nodded. “I've been okay… he just says things… it's Henry that's been mean…”

“Yeah, he was being too rough with you this morning,” he agreed.

“Yeah… he's been like that… and just sayin’ mean stuff to me…” you explained. “He told me where Mama is, though… I guess Dad told him.”

“Where is she?” Vic wondered. He knew how important it was to you and Henry to find your Mom. He knew the both of you had been waiting for her since she had left.

“Doesn't matter,” you told him, rolling over onto your back. He frowned a bit. “She's with her new family, that's all that matters.”

“Oh…” he said, not sure how else to respond. You sniffed a little and looked towards the ceiling. “Are you gonna try and see her?”

“Fuck no.”

“Oh…. Why not?” he asked, sitting up a bit. You seemed annoyed by the question. “I know how much she means to you--”

“She means nothin’ to me. To either of us,” you told him. He raised an eyebrow. He figured you meant Henry. “She left us, she moved on, she don't care. So neither do we.”

“Do you  _ really _ not care?” he tried. You shrugged again. “Or is that just what Henry made you think.”

“Henry don't make me think nothin’,” you insisted, sitting up quickly. “I'm my own person, I think for myself.” He put up his hands defensively. You took a breath and lay down on your back again. “Henry says if she ever tries to come back, he'll finish what Dad started when she left… says he'll kill her.”

“Jesus Christ…” he mumbled. He brought his hand back to your lower back and rubbed gently. “Why’s he gotta be so violent?”

You shrugged. “I agree with him…” you told him. He frowned. “If she thinks she can just come back and expect us to forgive her, she's got somethin’ comin’ to her. She's gonna get a surprise.”

Vic didn't really know how to respond at first. He moved closer to you, holding you and kissing your neck gently. “That's sad…” he finally whispered. You shrugged again. “It is…”

“I don't wanna think about it,” you scoffed. “I didn't come here to talk about Mama…”

He sighed, and the both of you stayed quiet for a while. Then he hummed. “Did Henry tell you about the rock fight?” he wondered.

You turned your head to look at him. “No? What rock fight?” you asked.

“It was those Losers. We were pickin’ on the Hanlon kid, and those little brats came down and started pelting us with rocks,” he explained. “The little one with asthma got my arm pretty good, hurt like a bitch.”

“Sounds like they were protecting their friend,” you shrugged, raising an eyebrow. Vic blinked and nodded slowly. “How was he…? Henry, I mean, with the black kid? How bad was he?”

“Pretty bad,” Vic told you honestly. You had a very worried look in your eye, and he gulped. “I mean… I thought he might try’n kill him. Poor kid never did nothin’ wrong, I don't know why he hates him so much.”

“'cause he's black,” you told him. Vic gulped a bit and you raised an eyebrow. “You know that, don't act like you don't. He does the same thing with the Jewish kid, makes it seem like they're some horrible thing that shouldn't be around. It's bullshit, who cares if they look and live a little different, they're still a fuckin’ person. I hate it when he does that, it's… it's bullshit…”

“Yeah… yeah, it is,” he agreed, relief coursing through him. So he wasn't alone on that one. You knew that Henry was out of line with how he treated Mike Hanlon too, you knew it was wrong. “I really hate it when he does that…”

“Me too… I hate everything he does, I wish he would just…” you trailed off. “I wish he would be nice…” You didn't say anything for a minute. “Jesus, Vic, why’d you gotta bring up such bad stuff?”

“Sorry…” he mumbled.

“It's fine… just… think of somethin’ nicer…” you chuckled. “I didn't come here to think about my stupid fucked up family.”

Vic took a breath, thinking of how to change the mood and the subject smoothly. All you wanted was to get away, he didn't know why he couldn't just let you get away for the night. He hugged you a little. “So why did you come here?” he wondered sweetly. “Did you miss me?”

You tsked and looked at him, putting a hand on his cheek. “Yeah. What about it?” you teased him, touching your lips to his.

“Well I missed you too… I wanted to make sure the feeling was mutual,” he chuckled, kissing you softly. You hummed and pressed yourself closer to him. He moved his head to kiss your neck gently. “Can you stay here tonight?”

“Sure…” you agreed, running your hands through his hair. He stared at you for a moment, then hugged you tightly. “What?”

“I love you…” he whispered. You smiled a little, putting your face gently against his chest so that he couldn't see you blush. You didn't want to say it out loud, you didn't want to freak him out, but you were completely in love with the smell of him. The faint cigarette smoke in his clothes, overpowered by whatever cologne he wore and the peppermints he liked to chew on and something just completely  _ him _ . And you were in love with the way he looked at you, his eyes so full of love and care, his lips turned into a slight smile. And the way he held you so gently, like he might break you, but like he never wanted to let go, his fingers running along your shoulders and through your hair. You closed your eyes and for the first time in a long time you let yourself just breathe. You felt safe with him. Like nothing could find you, and nothing could hurt you.

You supposed that's what love is. That sense of safety, and the overwhelming need to have just him. That feeling of never wanting to be anywhere else, or be with anyone else for the rest of your life. You supposed that the steady, yet hard beat of your heart mixed with such a foreign, yet violently lovely sense of peace that you only felt around him meant that he was the only one you would ever feel this way about. You knew it.

“I love you too,” you whispered, letting his presence lull you towards sleep.

He closed his eyes, his lips resting at the top of your head, as if ready to kiss you at any moment. God knows you needed it. You needed all the love he could give, and he couldn't stop giving it if he tried, if he  _ wanted _ to. He was going to take you far away from this town, and your Dad and your brother. He was planning to work during the school year, and he was going to save up every penny for you. A small voice in the back of his mind told him to take you now, take the money from his parent’s savings and run away with you and never look back. But he needed to do this right. He needed to keep you safe at all costs. He needed to make sure that when the both of you left, you never had to look back. You would have each other and that's all you would need.

It would be like you were leaving nothing behind.


	7. Some Things That We Take For Granted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 7,820  
Rating: SFW  
Warnings: implied past non-con/abuse, implied neglect, implied abuse, sexism, attempted non-con, slight physical abuse, emotional abuse, manipulation

Vic didn't fall asleep right away. It was more of a hazy consciousness, somewhere between being awake and being asleep. You were the only thing in his line of vision, the only thing he could feel or smell. It was similar to the dreams he had of you, except for that ever so important aspect of  _ feeling _ . You were really here, laying beside him.

He had moved himself, once you had started lightly snoring, so that his head rested on the pillow next to you, and his hand gently ran through your hair, occasionally moving down to brush against your shoulder or your too small arms. Your oversized muscle tee reminded him of how little you really had compared to him. He wondered what it must be like for you, sneaking into this nice neighborhood and climbing into a room where everything in it belonged to him and no one else. He didn't have to share with anyone. And he had so much that he didn't have to share. It hadn't even occurred to him before that his full-sized bed, and his closet full of clothes, and his radio, and his books, and his door with a lock were something that you had never had. It put things into perspective to look at you. You had never had the luxury of knowing that your house would be warm, or that you would have hot water, and your parents would always have enough money to send you to whatever college you wanted, as well as pay for an apartment in Portland when the time came.

Vic had never thought of his family as being rich. Rich meant being like the Waltons, or something like that, someone with so much money that it didn't even make sense. But now that he thought about it, you had nothing compared to him. Where he had a big house, his own room, clean water, and plenty of food that was guaranteed to be cooked for him for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, you had a drafty little farm house, a room that you had to share with your Dad and brother, and he knew that you and Henry didn't get nearly enough to eat. He remembered a while back Henry telling him and the guys that he was lucky if his Dad bought enough food for them to have dinner every night. Not his Dad, of course, his Dad ate whenever he wanted, but you and Henry weren't taken care of.

How could he let that be? Vic gently brought his hand to your torso, being very careful not to touch past where your shirt covered you. His thumb brushed gently over your prominent rib cage, then down over your sunken stomach… what kind of father fed his children once a day? What kind of father beat his children so violently? What kind of father raped his daughter just because he felt bad for himself? It made Vic wish he could do something  _ now. _ He was going to give you the life he had. He was going to treat you like a princess, you would have everything you wanted, and it would all be your own. You would have enough and more. It was all he wanted, for you to have everything… he just wanted you to be happy. And safe, and healthy, and loved…

He brought his arm over your malnourished body, gentle and soft in fear that he might hurt you, but wanting to protect you and make it known that he would be there to protect you. Eventually he drifted to sleep, but his thoughts were still on you. Of what you didn't have and what you needed. Of what he was willing to give.

**\---**

You gasped and sat up, hearing a phone start ringing somewhere nearby. You weren't used to a phone being so close to you while you were sleeping, and it startled you, probably more than it should have.

Vic sat up as well, somehow faster than you did, and grabbed the phone by the second ring, picking it up and putting it to his ear as he watched you take in your surroundings, sleep trying to pull you back under the covers of his bed.

“Hello?” he asked quietly. “This is Vic…”

“Where the fuck’s my sister?!” You could hear it through the phone, and Vic had to pull it away from his ear. You rolled your eyes a bit and lay back down.

“Fuck, man, I dunno, I just woke up,” Vic lied, through a yawn. He glanced at his clock. “It's six o’clock in the morning, you gotta yell like that into the phone?”

“Yeah, Vic, I do,” Henry said loudly.

“Okay, Henry…” Vic sighed.

“Now where the fuck’s Y/N?” your brother repeated.

Vic groaned. “Henry I already said I don't know,” he said. “Did you call Greta or something?”

“They ain't friends no more, Vic, remember? Those bitches dropped her.”

“Well how should I know, I haven't seen her, maybe they made up since last time I saw her,” Vic pointed out. “Are you sure she's not just sleeping on the couch or something, did you check the whole house?”

“ _ I _ slept on the couch, she ain't there, and she ain't in our room,” he spat. “Cut the bullshit, Victor, I know she's with you.”

“I mean, she's not,” he sighed back.

“Well then where the fuck is she?! My Dad’s away until tonight, but he’s gonna be home before curfew, and if she ain't home by then, I'm gonna get fuckin’  _ murdered _ ,” he told him. “Little bitch snuck out after I fell asleep last night, and I  _ know _ she went to you.”

“She used to go fall asleep down in the park sometimes, did you check there?” Vic suggested, another yawn falling past his lips. Henry didn't respond for a moment.

“She really ain't with you?” he asked more quietly.

“No, Henry, she's really not,” he lied again. “Seriously, man, she used to go sleep in weird places, remember? The barn, the park… go check there.”

“You think?” Henry wondered. “Fuck, man, she don't just go out like this, and why the  _ fuck _ she gotta sneak out  _ now _ ? If she goes missin’ or some shit like the other kids, my Dad will actually kill me, you get that right? He'll shoot me…”

“Yeah I get it, Hen,” Vic agreed.

“Shit, this is just like Patrick all over again,” he groaned. “Fuck, alright, I'm gonna go look for her, I'll check the barn, and then… then maybe down at the Quarry. Can you help, go check the park for me, will you?”

Vic rubbed his eyes. “Sure. I'll get ready then go out and look for her…” he agreed. Henry thanked him, then you heard the phone hang up and Vic set the phone back down slowly. He slid back down into bed next to you and wrapped his arm around you. Your eyes were closed, but you knew you couldn't fall back asleep. He yawned. “I gotta go look for you…”

“Sorry,” you told him quietly, cuddling up against him again.

“'s okay…” he mumbled, sounding like he might fall back asleep. You opened your eyes and were surprised to see him looking at you with a soft smile.

“What?” you wondered.

“You're pretty…” he told you. You blushed a little and rolled your eyes, hiding your face from him. “You're pretty, and I wanna wake up next to you every morning.”

You smiled a little and looked up at him. “I want that too,” you agreed. You knew you couldn't be that pretty. Your hair was always messy in the morning, and you hadn't even had time to wake yourself up. But it was so easy to believe what Vic said. He always seemed so sincere. You hummed a little. “I guess I should go… I have to sneak home without him seein’ me…”

“I don't want you to… I want you to stay…” he said, a little whine to his voice. You held onto him him, silently agreeing that this was what you really wanted. “Soon, my love… soon, you'll get to stay in bed with me as long as you want…”

Your heart jumped a little, hearing him call you 'my love’. It made it feel all the more real. You looked up at him. “Am I your girlfriend?” you asked him.

“Gee, I hope so,” he laughed a bit. You smiled brightly and hugged him. “Otherwise, we're the closest friends I've ever seen.”

“Shush,” you scoffed, sitting up a bit and grabbing your scrunchy from the pillow, where it had probably fallen out during the night. You put your hair up and smoothed out your clothes a bit, leaning down to grab your shoes. You felt Vic's hand on your back again.

“Be careful, Y/N,” he said quietly, watching you put your sneakers on. “Please. Don't tell 'em you were here.”

“No kiddin’,” you sighed. “I'll never make that mistake again.” You looked back at him, and saw the genuine worry on his face. You touched his cheek and smiled sadly. “Come and see me, ‘kay? Don't be scared. No more waitin’ two weeks for me to come to you.” He laughed under his breath and sat up.

“I will. I really will this time, and we'll be careful,” he agreed, wrapping his arms around you. You turned your head slightly and kissed him, taking his hand in yours.

After a moment you stood up, sighing. “I gotta go,” you said again. He kept his hand in yours, looking at the ground. “I'll be real careful. I promise.”

He looked up at you and nodded, standing up carefully and hugging you. You sighed and hugged him back. “I love you,” he said. “I really do.”

“I love you too…” you replied softly. You thought. “Is it okay if I'm  _ in _ love with you?”

He didn't respond right away, and you felt your heart jump in your chest, and you started to pull away. But he held you in place, and you looked up at him. “I thought that was a given…” he smiled. “I didn't even think that was a question.”

You felt a smile pull at your lips, and you went on your toes, kissing him again. You could tell that he didn't want to let you go, but you pulled yourself away from him, running your thumb over his hand before going to his window and opening it. “Good,” you chuckled. “I love you, dork.”

You climbed outside and he felt something come over him. He couldn’t let you leave without making things better. He need to make a promise to you. A promise that he could never break…

He moved quickly over to the window, grabbing your hand before you could leave. “Hang on,” he pleaded. You sighed with a smile. “Just… real quick. It's important.” He climbed out his window and stood up straight in front of you. You watched him curiously as he pulled one of his rings off, staring at it nervously.

“Vic?” you asked quietly. He looked up at you and took a breath, holding the ring out to you.

“I want you to have this. So that you know I promise that you're the only one I'll ever love. So you know I'm always gonna keep my promise,” he explained, looking nervous. “I want you to have it so… so you know that I promise to be with you forever.”

You felt your face heat up, and a smile spread across your face. Then it faltered. “A-Are you proposing to me?” you wondered, almost joking, but your eyes wide with hope. He took a deep breath that moved his whole body, then he nodded. You smiled again, more brightly, and you looked down at the ring, feeling like you might cry. “Really? It’s… it’s not too fast?”

“No. It’s not too fast. I could do it when we turn eighteen, but why wait? I know I’m gonna do it, and I… I just know that it needs to be now. I don't wanna break any more promises. I want to be with you forever, and I want to…” he trailed off. “You make me crazy, Y/N… I wanna run away with you, take you far away and start over with you.”

“I want that too,” you said hopefully.

He gulped, glancing away. “As… as much as I  _ want _ to do it now…” he started. “It's not that easy… I need to figure out how to get the money from my parents, and I need extra money, and I need a place to take you… I'm gonna get a job when school starts, and save every penny of it. A-And I'm gonna study real hard, 'cause I'm on route to graduate early--”

“What about Henry?” you asked. He hesitated. “And Belch? You'd leave them behind… I don't want you to do that for me…”

“I do,” he insisted. You smiled a little. “They'll understand. I'll write 'em a note or somethin’.” He took your hand. “Would you do that with me? Would you run away with me? And… and marry me?”

You didn't know what to say. You were only fifteen, almost sixteen but it was still so young. You hadn’t even thought out that far after high school, you had never imagined planning to marry someone so soon. But  _ god _ , it was Vic, you knew you wanted this, this-- he was the only thing in the whole world you were sure about.

You didn't know what words would be right to describe how you felt. But you knew you needed to answer him, you had to tell him  _ yes _ somehow, and you needed to do it now. He was right, this needed to happen  _ now _ . You smiled brightly and opened your hand to let him put the ring on. He smiled and laughed a little in relief, and put the ring onto your ring finger. It fit a little big, and you both laughed, then you leaned forward and kissed him. He touched your cheek, and moved back to look at you. You blushed and played with the ring nervously.

“I'll put it on a chain… I got my Dad's old one from when he was in Nam the first time around. It's got his dog tags on it, but I can take 'em off. Henry's got the set from his second tour, so it won't be a big deal,” you explained. “I might not be able to wear it visible a lot… but I'll keep it on me all the time.”

“Just so long as you know I love you,” he told you. He kissed you again and you wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly. He held onto you.

“I love you,” you said. You felt him kiss your ear and you giggled, wincing away slightly from the tickling sensation it sent through your body. “I gotta go. Henry's gonna be lookin’ for me.”

“Shit, that's right,” he gasped, pulling away and looking at you. “Go ahead. I love you, so much, more than anything.”

“Love you too,” you to him again. He kissed you quickly, one last time, then let go of your hand, and you quickly hurried away before he could do something to make you stay. Just looking at him made you want to stay. It was torture to leave him, especially now…. Now that he'd promised to spend his life with you. You held onto the ring on your finger as you ran towards your house, knowing that you couldn’t stop smiling even if you wanted to.

The neighborhoods started getting less nice, the houses smaller and more run down every few blocks. You slowed down to a jog, then started walking, stopping at a crosswalk as you saw a car coming.

“Y/N!” someone said out the window. You looked down, seeing a bigger, sweet-looking woman through the window.

“Hi, Mrs. Huggins,” you greeted.

“Honey, your brother's looking for you. He and Reggie just left my house to go look for you down at the Quarry, he's worried sick,” she explained, looking a little worried.

You sighed. “Gee, I'm sorry,” you told her honestly. “I just needed to get out of that house for a while, I didn't mean to worry anyone.”

“Well, as long as you hurry home, I'm sure they'll come back to check sooner or later. If I see 'em on my way I'll let 'em know,” she offered. Her smile had been faltering the whole time she'd been talking, and she leaned out the window a little. “Sweetheart, come here.”

You frowned and moved closer to her car, stopping outside the door. She reached out and touched the yellowing bruises across your face. “Oh, it's not a big deal--” you started quickly.

“Did Butch do this to you?” she asked, almost coldly. You froze, then gulped and nodded. She sighed heavily. “That bastard. And look at you, you look thinner than the last time I saw you…” She ran her hand down your arm, then touched your boney hand with her plump ones. “I swear, one’a these days, I'm gonna take you two in. I'm sick of him, I've been sick of him since he came back at the end of the war. You're mother wouldn't let him do this to you if she were here.”

“She ain't here though…” you reminded her quietly. She blinked and squeezed your hand a bit.

“Peggy loves you two to death, you know that? Said when she called the last week, she was about ready to drive herself-”

“Wait, when she called?” you asked, frowning deeply. Mrs. Huggins raised an eyebrow. “She calls you?”

“W-Well yes, she calls me every Saturday at six, but I meant when she called Butch,” she explained. Your eyes widened, and her mouth fell open. “He hasn't told you.”

“Mama called him?” you wondered quietly.

“Your Mama calls every week for you,” she told you. You felt tears well up in your eyes. “Think Butch mighta changed it so she calls him at work, but she calls to ask about you, and make sure you're okay. It was part’a the agreement when they got divorced, that she gets to at least call once a week. You didn't know that?”

“No… no, he didn't tell us that…” you breathed, taking a shaky breath. Mrs. Huggins stared at you, then squeezed your hand again before letting go.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. It ain't right… I really have to go to work, sweetheart, but you know where I am if you ever need me, alright? Hurry home, now,” she instructed. You nodded vacantly, and she pulled out of the stop, driving down the road. You stared at the road for a minute, then jumped back into a run towards your house.

**\---**

“Y/N!!”

You stopped short in your driveway, moving quickly out of the way as the Trans-Am’s breaks were slammed on next to you. Henry jumped out of the passenger’s seat, going around the car and walking up to you.

“Where the fuck were you?” he asked, grabbing your arm. You glanced at Belch in the driver's seat, and Vic in the back, then looked up at him. “Huh? I woke up to take a piss and you weren't fuckin’ home.”

“Sorry, I couldn't sleep,” you explained, shrugging.

“Okay, well, there's some kid-snatchin’ psycho on the loose, and you ain't supposed to just leave and wander around at night, did you forget about that?” he pressed.

“I weren't far, Henry, I was just at the park,” you lied.

“Yeah, but you were  _ alone _ ,” he sighed, putting a hand over his eyes in annoyance. “You're a fuckin’ idiot, Y/N, you know that?” He glanced back at his friends, then leaned closer to whisper to you. “You scared the shit outta me, thought you were gone for good, you brat.” He stood up straight, letting go of you and walking over to his friends. “I'm gonna bring her inside, make sure she's not gonna run off again. Be right back.” He grabbed you and yanked you towards the house. You hurried behind him and smiled a little, looking back at Vic, then following Henry into the house.

Vic watched the two of you, biting his thumb nail. Belch tilted the side mirror to look at him, and chuckled. “Still got it bad for her?” he teased. Vic rolled his eyes a little. “Come on, kid, I saw her look at you, she's into you.” Vic shushed him. “Look, I'm dumb, but I ain't  _ that _ dumb. I know she slept over with you last night, you look guilty as fuck.”

“Shut up, dude,” he mumbled, moving to bite another nail.

“I ain't gonna say nothin’, Henry don't seem to think you two were together but I just know this stuff,” he said. Vic rolled his eyes. “You get laid?”

Vic sighed loudly. “No, Belch, we don't do that,” he said. “Look, she was just next to me, we slept next to each other. Nothin’ crazy happened, we just love each other a lot and like each other's company. Just... don't say nothin’ to Henry, alright?”

“ _ Love _ ?” Belch laughed. Vic glared at him through the mirror. “ _ Oooh _ , you get all starry-eyed for the little Bowers and get all sweet and cute with each other? You fight over who loves each other more, Vicky, you give her flowers and stuff?”

“Yeah, dude, she's my girlfriend…” he admitted. Belch looked a little surprised. Vic looked away. “Well… I think I proposed to her this morning…”

“Fuckin’  _ what _ ?!”

“ _ Shhhh _ !”

Belch turned around in the front seat to look at him. “Vic, you fuckin’ didn't,” he hissed. Vic shrugged. “Henry's gonna  _ kill  _ you!”

“You can't tell him, Reg.”

“You can't just  _ not  _ tell Henry…  _ I _ can’t just not tell Henry!” he said nervously. He glanced at the house. “Vic….”

“Reg, I'm serious. Not a word to him, alright. It's not safe for her,” he insisted. Belch looked at him again. “I love her, and she loves me. And we're gonna get married as soon as we graduate, maybe sooner. But her Dad and Henry  _ cannot  _ know. It ain't gonna hurt them. It's just to keep her safe.”

“You promise we won't be hurtin’ Henry?” Belch wondered.

“Promise, Reg. I'll tell him eventually. But right now, it's too dangerous,” he pressed. Belch looked uncertain. “Come on, please man?” His friend gulped, then nodded. “Thank you…”

“Just be careful, Vic… if he finds out--”

“He won't. We're being careful,” he told him. They sat silently for a moment, Belch looking forward again and shaking his head.

“Holy shit, you're gettin’ married…” he mumbled. Vic laughed lightly. “Can I come? To the weddin’? Is it gonna be like that, a big weddin’?”

Vic thought. “I dunno… it's not gonna happen for a while, dude, but I'll tell you what, if it's a big wedding you'll be there,” he told him. Belch nodded and sat back against his seat.

Vic wasn’t sure why he had told Belch. He was just such a good friend, they usually told each other everything, and this seemed like the kind of thing you were supposed to tell a best friend… he wished he could tell Henry, but he really couldn’t think of a good outcome to telling him  _ hey, I’m getting married to your sister _ when he was already so protective of her… when he was so protective of  _ Vic _ . It had always been hard to talk to girls around Henry, even if Vic didn’t like them, Henry always seemed to scare off any girl who tried to flirt with. Something about no girl being good enough. He always said it quietly, under his breath, and he always sounded angry about it. But he always sounded so angry about everything, he didn’t think anything of it.

Whatever his problem was, it didn’t matter now. Nothing was going to tear him apart from you, not even Henry and his constant rage could do that.

**\---**

“Henry, I saw Mrs. Huggins--”

“Yeah, she drove by us, said she stopped and told you to head home,” Henry said coldly. “ _ Please _ , for fuck’s sake, Y/N, don't ever run off again.”

You frowned and looked up at him. “Henry, she told me somethin’ weird,” you continued seriously. Henry looked down at you.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. She said Mama calls Dad every week to check on us,” you told him. Henry looked down.

“Yeah, I know,” he mumbled. You felt your heart skip a beat.

“ _ What _ ?!” you hissed.

“I said I know. He told me. She calls him at work to see how we're doin’ in school, and make sure we ain't died,” he shrugged.

“You knew, and you didn't tell me?!” you scoffed. He glared at you. “Why the fuck didn't you tell me?! She been tryin'a talk to us, Henry, Dad won't--”

“She would call here if she wanted to talk to us, Y/N,” he sighed. You frowned. “That's why I didn't tell you. 'cause I knew you'd get hopeful.”

“Y-You ain't?” you asked, feeling your heart sink in your chest.

“She's been callin’ for years. But she ain't here, is she?” he pointed out. You looked down. “No. She ain't. We still ain't worth her time.” He pulled your ponytail gently and you winced away from him. “I'm leavin’. Stay  _ here _ , no runnin’ off. Right?”

“Yeah…” you mumbled, walking towards the laundry room quickly.

Henry watched you, standing in the main room as you started putting a pile of clothes in the wash. Then you heard him walk to the door and leave.

After the Trans-Am pulled out of the driveway, the house was fairly quiet, other than the sound of the washing machine and the occasional noise from the wind outside. You cleaned up the house a bit, getting rid of the bottles and cans your Dad didn't bother to throw away, and the empty plates that you swore Henry hid from you. You brought any dirty dishes you found to the sink, then hesitated, looking down at the ring that threatened to slide from your finger.

You set the dishes down and hurried to your bedroom, grabbing your Dad's first-tour dog tags off the top of your dresser, and pulling apart the chain to take off the tags. You put the tags in your top drawer, and slid the ring onto the chain, snapping it closed again. You pulled the chain over your neck and touched the ring happily before hurrying back out. You would have to keep it hidden, maybe in your pocket, maybe under your shirt. The washer stopped and you sighed, going to finish the laundry. Just feeling the cool metal of Vic’s ring against your chest made you feel good inside. It was so rare to feel good like this… happy, just from the thought of something.

You brought the laundry out to the line to dry, then came back inside and sat in the living room chair, taking a breath and touching the ring-- Vic’s ring,  _ your _ ring. You smiled and leaned your head back against the chair, tucking it under your shirt and pressing it gently against your chest. He had made a promise by giving you this ring. He had promised his  _ love _ … and you knew he wasn’t going to break this promise. He was going to be the one thing, the first thing in your whole life that wouldn’t let you down.

It was the biggest promise Vic had ever made. He was promising you the world… in the back of your mind you worried that he wouldn't be able to follow through, but you couldn't get over the way you felt whenever you were around him. You closed your eyes and remembered back when he was younger, when his hair was still brown and his mom had made him comb it back out of his eyes. But a little bit would always fall into his face and cover his eyes. You remembered sneaking into an X-rated movie with him and Henry, and holding Vic’s hand, and hiding in his shoulder whenever something scary would happen.

It felt like all those years apart could be put behind you. He  _ loved _ you. Really loved you. He didn't want to do you harm, or hold you still. He wanted you to be free. He just wanted to  _ love _ you…. He wouldn’t break this promise….

You felt something brush against your cheek and you started, your eyes snapping open and your hands grabbing the arms of the chair. You saw your Dad looking down at you, and you looked around, seeing that it was dusk outside, the sun starting to set and the house covered in darkness.

“H-Hi Dad,” you said nervously, sitting up. You made sure the chain around your neck was covered by your shirt, then made it seem like you were fixing your hair. “I-I fell asleep, I guess…”

“Saw that…”

You gulped and stood up. “How was Rena?” you asked politely, moving past him carefully to go get a laundry basket out of the laundry room. The clothes on the line  _ had _ to be dry by now. You needed to bring them in before the night covered them in dew.

You turned and jumped, seeing him in the doorway of the laundry room. “She was… you know…” he mumbled. You didn’t know, but you smiled weakly and nodded, holding the basket in front of you and moving towards the door. “Women are so strange, you know that, Y/N…?”

“I’ve heard,” you sighed, waiting for him to move out of your way.

“When you become a woman, don’t be like that,” he continued.

“Be like what?” you asked. He didn’t respond, looking down slightly. “Um… I have to go out and get the laundry--”

“What is it with you women and changin’ your minds?” he wondered. You frowned and opened your mouth in uncertainty. “I drive half an hour to see her and she only wants to fuck once… in the whole night I’m there...”

“Oh--”

“What’s with you girls…?” he continued, sounding almost angry. You gulped and looked down at your basket. “Go on, do your laundry… don’t be out too long…” You glanced up, seeing that he had moved slightly out of the doorway. You moved quickly past him, hurrying outside to get what was on the line. You wondered when Henry was going to be home, and you kept glancing down the driveway as you grabbed the laundry off of the line. It was going to be a dangerous night… the shadows weren’t going to hide you, they were already hiding things… tonight was the kind of night that Mama would have told you to stay away, because the shadows would tell  _ him _ secrets…

You picked up your basket and took a breath before walking back to the house. Your Dad was already in his chair, with his case of beer in front of him and the TV on to the Friday night program. You hurried past him to the laundry room to fold the laundry, doing it quickly but silently, so that you could listen. The laundry room was a bad place to be on nights like tonight… it was too easy to get cornered.

You put the laundry away quickly, then went to the kitchen to do the dishes you had meant to do earlier. You touched the ring against your chest and took a breath, turning on the sink and grabbing your sponge. It was funny, how you could call nothing your own except for the cleaning. It was  _ your _ sponge, it was  _ your _ laundry,  _ your _ basket,  _ your _ drying line… you knew Henry didn’t know any better, he was stupid about that sort of thing, but your Dad was trying to keep you in a place, in a role.  _ You _ did the cooking (if you could call putting things in the microwave cooking) and the cleaning, and the boys did everything else… which was nothing. Dad worked, sure, but then he came home and did nothing. And you still had to be doing something, or one of them would ask why you weren’t keeping busy. And you hated it, you hated  _ keeping busy _ . It seemed like years since you could go out just to have fun…

You grabbed  _ your _ drying rag and started wiping off the dishes to put them away, shaking your head to yourself a bit. Vic was going to share the work with you. You would make sure he would. You could do dishes, and he would do laundry. Or better yet, he had money, maybe he could get a maid to do it for him… that way you could spend time with him, and you wouldn’t have to  _ keep busy _ , you could just be with him...

“Sweetheart…?”

You looked up quickly as your father spoke, seeing that he was still staring at the TV. “Y-Yes, Daddy?” you asked, drying off another dish, more slowly.

“Get me another drink,” he ordered. You paused, and stared at the case of beer right in front of him, and rolled your eyes a bit. You didn't dare argue with him, though, so you put the dish in your hand away and walked over, seeing the case was nearly empty, just three cans left. You had let your guard down, you hadn’t been paying enough attention to what he was doing, and now he was going to be drunk, and Henry wasn’t even home yet...

“Maybe you should slow down, Daddy, you're gonna get sick,” you pointed out, trying to sound calm, not looking at him and leaning over to pull a can out of the case.

“I think I'll be alright…” he said slowly. You stood back up and froze, feeling a hand on your backside. You had put your guard down, why had you kept it down, why were you-- “You certainly got your mother's body…” You yelped as you felt him slap your butt, and you turned around quickly.

“Daddy--” You froze, and looked away quickly, unsure of what to do, your brain completely shutting down. It wasn't like you hadn't seen him like this before… but it had been so long. You thought he was going to stop, that you would never have to see any part of him again. It wasn't right… you knew it wasn't right, he had his pants unzipped and unbuttoned, and he expected you to look. You refused to look. There was no way you were going to look. You hadn't looked before, when he had forced himself on you, you weren't going to look now. You kept your eyes towards the entrance to the hall, holding the can out to him. He could see you averting your gaze, and he licked his lips, grabbing the can out of your hand then grabbing your arm. “Dad--”

“I won't hurt you, princess… sit down…” he told you. You felt a panicked sob rip out of your throat, and you tried to tug your arm away.

“I'm tired, I just wanna finish my chores and go to bed, Daddy…” you pleaded. He tsked and yanked you closer to him, forcing your hand towards him. You tried to pull yourself away, keeping your fist tightly closed, but his grip was firm.

“You slept all day, baby, how can you be tired…?” he pointed out quietly. You gulped and tried to think of what else you could say. “I know you been thinkin’ about boys lately, honey...” He forced your hand towards were his pants were unbuttoned and unzipped and you weren’t going to look, you would  _ not _ look, and he pressed the back of your hand against him. You gagged a bit and shut your eyes tightly, trying to use your other hand to loosen his grip. “I know it must be frustratin’ for you, not to have any touch…”

“I'm okay, Daddy, I just wanna go to bed,” you tried, your voice barely coming out. You felt close to hyperventilating, and you still looked away from him as you continued to pull against him. He touched your chin and turned you to face him.

“I want you to put it in your mouth,” he ordered. You looked horrified and you let out a sharp gasp as you tried all the more desperately to get his grip off of you. “You have such pretty lips… just like your Mama's--”

He let go immediately when the front door opened, and Henry froze in the doorway. You fell back heavily but crawled away until you could get leverage to help you stand up.

“Henry!” you sobbed. You hadn't realized that you were crying, but you ran past your Dad, hugging your brother tightly.

Henry held onto you, staring at his Dad as he hurried to zip his pants up. “Dad…?” he asked warily.

“H-He made me touch him, H-He wanted me to put it in my mouth,” you hissed, trembling a bit, and wincing away from your own words, as if they could become reality just by saying them. Henry frowned deeply and looked at his Dad again.

“No, I didn't. She's lyin’ to you, boy, she's the one that came to me, started touchin’ up on me, and beggin’ for me,” your Dad lied.

It was such an obvious lie… Henry could tell, the way he had known you were lying when you came back from Vic's, the way his Dad knew when he was lying about what he had been up to.

“Dad, that's not...” he started calmly. His Dad glared at him and you held on to Henry's shirt a little more, as he seemed to hesitate. “Y-You're her Dad, you can't touch her like that…” Your Dad stood up, stumbling a bit, then moving towards the both of you. Henry moved you behind him and your Dad paused. “Dad, I think you should get some rest. You have to get up early for work tomorrow, and I’d feel--”

Your Dad smacked him in the ear and he winced and cowered a bit as it started ringing. “You tryin'a protect your sister, boy?” he slurred out, cold and threatening. Henry avoided his sharp gaze. “Why waste your energy savin’ her from somethin’ that won't even hurt her, instead'a protectin’ your own coward ass?” You looked at his brother, surprised as he stood his ground, even if he looked frightened. “You hear me Henry?! There ain't no use’a you hidin’ her like that, you're wastin’ your time. If she wants to go out and be a slut the least she can do is show us boys at home a little action. I’m tellin’ ya, girls won’t put out for the guys who want ‘em the most...”

You kept your grip on Henry as your Dad tried to grab you, and he stumbled a bit when you didn't move. “Dad, let me help you to bed,” Henry tried, taking your Dad's arm and very carefully trying to lead him away from you. Your Dad shoved him back a bit.

“You’re too nice to her, Henry, you wanna lose her like you lost your mother?” he spat at him. Henry backed away a little. “She’d still be here if it weren’t for you, you…” You saw Henry tense up and look down. “We never wanted you, we would’a been fine without you… can’t say we didn’t try’n… try’n get rid’a you…”

“You need to be up early,” Henry reminded him, surprisingly calmly.

“Shut up…” his Dad mumbled. “Mama never wanted a boy… neither did I, we wanted a little girl. Fuckin’ disappointment when you came out…”

“Stop it!” you hissed. “How can you say that?”

Your Dad scoffed. “What’re you pissed about? You're the only one we wanted, you're the only one I love…” he explained. You felt Henry take a shaky breath and he looked up slightly. “Come on, kid, tell your sister to put out…”

You saw Henry shake his head lightly. “You’ll feel better if you lay down, Dad…” he said gently. You couldn’t believe how calm he was, you couldn’t believe he was standing up for you so confidently. He moved forward and grabbed your Dad’s arm again. Luckily, your Dad seemed to follow him this time.

“Just… Y/N, honey, come in and lay with me, sweetheart, you know I sleep better when you're next to me,” he slurred out. You watched him nearly fall into the wall and Henry caught him quickly. “Henry, make sure Y/N comes in and lays with me.”

“If she wants to, Dad,” Henry said shortly, bringing your Dad into the room. You kept your arms around yourself and looked down, shutting your eyes tightly as you tried not to cry. Henry would yell at you for crying, you knew he would….

After a few minutes, he came out of the bedroom with a bunch of blankets in your hands-- you recognized yours and his from the both of your beds --and you recognized the shapes of pillows under his arms. “What’re you doin’?” you whispered.

“We're gonna sleep out here tonight,” he explained quietly. You blinked a bit and saw him drop the pillows and blankets on the couch, then moved to the bedroom again and closed the door slowly so that it would be silent. He waited outside the door for a moment, then he walked over to you, opening and closing his fist. “Does he… does he do that a lot? When I ain't here?” You trembled a bit and nodded. “Since when?”

“What'dya mean?”

“I mean, when did Dad start tryin'a… touch you?” he asked, his voice cracking. You frowned a bit.

“He done it since I was thirteen…” you said, confused as to how he couldn’t know that. He looked a little annoyed that you expected him to know this.

“H-How the fuck was I s’pposed to know?” he asked.

You stared at him. “'cause you were in the room when he did it… you were sittin’ right on your bed and cryin’…” you reminded him. He looked shocked. “Don't you remember? He told you to watch how a man does it while he…” You trailed off and gagged a bit. His hands clenched to fists.

“While he what? While he touched you? Dad didn't… he didn't go all the way, did he? He wouldn't do that?” he questioned, almost like he was begging. You sobbed a little and looked down. “He wouldn't, would'e, Y/N?”

You sniffed. “H-He did…” you admitted almost silently. Henry almost looked like he was gonna cry, looking down quickly. “You don't remember?”

You half expected him to yell  _ of course I don't remember, Y/N, I wouldn't have fuckin’ asked! _ or something along those lines, but he took a quick, uneven breath, still looking at the floor. “No…” he told you quietly.

“Oh…”

“W-Why… did he do it?” he asked, uncertainty in his voice. “I-I mean…. I just don't get how…” He trailed off and closed his eyes tightly. You gulped and watched him nervously, taking a step back in case the blame went to you and he lashed out. “H-How come I didn't stop him?”

“What?”

“Why didn't I stop him? W-Why didn't I help you…?” he repeated. You just stared at him. “You said I was sittin’ right there, on my bed, why didn't I get up and stop him?”

You hesitated. “'cause he told you not to,” you explained, almost in a whisper. He looked up at you and you winced, feeling tears still dripping down your face.

Henry stepped forward, then stopped, bringing his hand to his face and rubbing the back of it against his cheek-- wiping tears, you realized.

“I'm sorry…” he said quietly. You looked at him, shocked. “I'm… I'm sorry I forgot… and I'm sorry I helped him…”

“Henry…” you breathed. He looked up at you and you stepped back.

“He ain't ever gonna do nothin’ like that again, Y/N, I promise. He ain't ever gonna look at you, or t-touch you…” he told you. He took a slow breath. “You stay near me. That fucker ever touches you again, I'll kill him…” You blinked in surprise. He looked away quickly, walking towards the couch and grabbing his pillow and blankets. “I'm sleepin’ on the chair. You take the couch.” You walked over slowly, watching him lean one of the chairs back and set his bedding down. You stopped in front of him and he stared at you, almost looking angry again. “What?”

You gulped and brought up your arms to hug him tightly, hiding your face in his shoulder. He didn't move to hug you back, but he did touch your back very gently, his fingers just barely brushing your shirt, but you could feel it.

“What he said weren't true,” you said. “Mama loved us both once… I always thought she loved you more.” He moved back and crossed his arms, looking down again. “I know you don't wanna hear about her… but Dad's lyin’... Maybe it's true for him, but Mama wasn't disappointed with you, that ain't why she left.”

“It feels that way, sometimes…” he said sadly. You gulped. “And even if it ain't that way… he finally fuckin’ admitted it, huh? I'm the biggest fuckin’ mistake he ever made… nobody fuckin’ loves me, I knew it, and now I got the proof.”

You shook your head, moving closer to him. “That's not true though. 'cause I love you,” you told him. He looked up at you. “I'm glad you're my big brother.”

“No you ain't,” he tsked, poking your side almost painfully. You scoffed, looking down. “But… if you was, I’d be too.” He turned quickly and you smiled a little, wiping more tears from your face. “I’ll stay up till you fall asleep.” You got on the couch before he started getting short with you, and covered yourself completely with your blankets.

You wished Vic was here to hold you, like last night. Maybe Henry would loosen up and let you be around him tomorrow…

“And… same about the… the other thing…” Henry mumbled from under his blankets. You smiled a little.

“You love me?” you wondered quietly.

“Whatever, don’t make it seem so great,” he scoffed, pulling his blankets over him more. You smiled even more and lay on your back. That was about as close as you were going to get to an  _ I love you _ from Henry. Maybe things would be better between you now. Maybe he would be less angry about you being with Vic, or at least you could make him understand. Maybe now you could have Vic, and still have your brother… you could only hope it would work out that well.


	8. What's Yours Should Be Mine, Not The Other Way Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 5,454  
Rating: SFW  
Warnings: verbal/emotional abuse, possessive behavior, jealousy, homophobia, homophobic slur(s), internalized homosexuality, implied closeted/unacknowledged bisexuality, possession (maybe, probably???), psychopathy, character edging on mental breakdown

The sunlight in your eyes woke you up the next morning. You groaned a bit and rubbed your eyes, turning over onto your back and draping your arm over your face.

“'s she awake?”

“I dunno, I think so…”

You frowned and sat up carefully, holding your blankets over your chest. You rubbed your eyes again, seeing Henry standing at the edge of the couch, glaring at your Dad who was standing next to the kitchen counter, buttoning up his uniform shirt.

“Sleep well?” he asked coldly. You gulped, glaring at him a little.

“Yeah, I did,” you told him. You looked over at Henry, who was looking down slightly. He glanced at you when he felt your gaze on him, then he looked back at the floor.

“Good…” your Dad mumbled. Then he reached into his pocket, pulling something out and walking closer to you. “Tell me somethin’, Y/N…” He opened his hand and the chain with your ring on it fell and dangled from his fingers. “Who gave you this?”

Your mouth fell open and you touched your chest absentmindedly. “H-How did you--?” you started. Then you glared at him. “Give me that, it's mine.”

“Yeah? Who gave it to you?” he asked again. You gulped and looked at the ring again.

“It doesn't matter, it's mine and I want it back,” you demanded. He tsked. “And I want you to tell me how you got it.”

“I was just checkin’ on you… you usually don't sleep out here, you worried me…” he explained. You took a shaky breath, holding your blankets to your chest again. “And then I saw this around your neck… looks a lot like my chains, don't it, honey? And I know you're a deep sleeper, it weren't hard to get 'em off…” You reached out to grab the ring and he pulled it away. “You still seein’ that boy, Y/N? After we told you not to?”

“Give me--”

“Answer my damn question!” he snapped. You jumped back a little and he grabbed your arm. “You're still sneakin’ off to see that boy, even though you know you ain't supposed to. He give this to you? Tell you he loves you, huh?” You yanked your arm away from him, but he grabbed your face quickly. Henry hesitated, watching the whole scenario nervously. “You don't love that boy as much as you love me, though, right?”

You only glared at him, so he let go of you, putting your ring back into his pocket. 

“I'm goin’ to work… Henry, make yourself useful today,” he said. He walked over to a cupboard and opened it, reaching in and pulling out a revolver. He set it on the counter. “Clean it. And clean it good, or the barrel of it’s gonna be the last thing you see…”

“Yes sir…” he agreed quietly. Your Dad nodded as he grabbed his keys off the counter and walked towards the door. You got up off the couch as he opened the door and followed him outside.

“Wait,” you said shortly, letting the screen door slam shut behind you. He stopped halfway down the porch and turned to look for you. “Give me my ring back.”

He blinked and walked back over to you slowly. You saw Henry move closer to the door out of the corner of your eye as your Dad stopped right in front of you. “Take it. Go ahead,” he told you. You hesitated, blinking. “It's in my pocket, take it out, if you want it so bad.” You felt your heart squeeze in your chest and you looked away from him quickly, tensing your jaw. “Am I really that bad to you, sweetheart…?”

“Yes,” you told him without hesitation. He breathed in sharply and turned around to walk off the porch, going to his car. You glanced at Henry, seeing that he was glaring at your Dad as well. You both watched him leave, keeping your eyes on him until his car was out of the driveway, then you heard Henry walk back into the house.

You stayed on the porch for a minute, trying to get yourself to calm down. You couldn't do it anymore… you wanted so badly to show your Dad that he wasn't in control anymore, that he couldn't hurt you… but he was. And he could. He was older and stronger, and anything you tried would end up with you getting yourself hurt… there had to be some way you could stand up to him…

You saw the Trans-Am pulling into the driveway and you opened the screen door, going into the house without a second glance. Henry was too close by for you to risk going up to Vic… “Your friends are here,” you told Henry, grabbing your blankets and pillow off the couch.

“I heard the car. They're gonna come in for a while,” he mumbled, taking apart the gun on the counter. He had put on his jeans, still in his shirt from the day before, and you glanced at him.

“I'll clean up the living room,” you sighed, starting to bring your bedding to your room.

“No… I got it,” he argued, standing up quickly and walking over to you, grabbing your bedding from you. You frowned worriedly, seeing that he wasn't looking at you. He sniffed a little, and glanced at you, and you saw tears on his face. “I didn't let him touch you this mornin’... I woke up, and he was over you, and he was touching the chain around your neck, but he just grabbed it and got away from you when I said somethin’.”

“Henry, it's ok… I knew you wouldn't let him,” you told him seriously. He gulped and nodded, looking over as he heard footsteps on the porch.

“Let 'em in… I need a minute,” he told you, bringing the bedding to the bedroom. You watched him, then moved to the door as you heard a knock. You opened the screen door and Belch hesitated.

“Hey, Y/N,” he greeted, glancing in behind you. You saw Vic walking towards the door from the car, and looked up at Belch quickly. He still had a big cut across his nose from getting into that rock fight with the Loser kids, and you instinctively wanted to offer to take a look at him and patch it up, but you thought better of it.

“Hey guys. I'm supposed to let you in,” you explained, opening the door all the way to let them come into the house. Vic looked up when he heard your voice, and he smiled a bit. You relaxed a bit, seeing him, and as he followed his friend into the house, he glanced around, then kissed you quickly.

“Hi,” he smiled.

“Hey…” you sighed. He touched your hand gently.

“What's wrong? You look upset,” he told you.

You sniffed. “Sorry… everything's fine…” you lied. You looked away from him. “I um… my Dad has the ring…”

“What? How?” he asked, sounding panicked.

“I'm sorry, he just… he saw it on me while I was asleep and he took it, and he  _ knows _ it's from you, they aren't stupid…” you explained.

He bit his lip, then looked around. “Well… it's fine, that's alright, screw 'em,” he insisted.

“That's easy for you to say,” you chuckled. He shrugged a little and nodded.

“Right… yeah, you're right, I'm sorry,” he sighed. “I meant like… it's okay that you don't have it, the ring. It's just a thing, I'm still in love with you.”

“Yeah, me too,” you smiled a little. “You're not mad?”

“No! No, of course not,” he said. You nodded and he leaned down, kissing you gently. He touched your waist carefully, and you brought your hand to his arm. He started to deepen the kiss a little, then you heard Belch clear his throat loudly.

You both looked up, and moved away from each other when you saw Henry standing in the opening to the hallway. He stared at you expectantly. “W-Well it's not like you didn't know,” you tried.

He glanced at Vic. “I knew that fuckin’ ring was his… you give it to her when she slept over at your house the other night?” he asked coldly. Vic looked down nervously. “You're givin’ me a fuckin’ headache, Y/N, you're such a fuckin’ idiot… makin’ out with him in the fuckin’ livin’ room… what next, you gonna wait for Dad to come home and fuck him right in front of him?”

“Stop it,” you insisted, blushing and looking down.

“Yeah, Henry, they don't do that,” Belch spoke up nervously, hoping to get the tension out of the air. Henry's face turned red, and he started turning to look at Belch. Vic made a cutting motion with his hand across his throat. Belch looked confused. “I-I mean, th-they don't screw around or nothin’, sure they kiss, you just saw 'em, but they won't screw around in front'a your Dad, they don't do that.” You put your hand on your forehead in frustration, and Vic watched them nervously.

“They don't? How the fuck do  _ you _ know?” he snapped. Belch stepped back in shock.

“I-I just…” he started. “V-Vic told me…”

“Yeah? And you didn't tell  _ me _ ?” he asked shortly. Belch looked at Vic for help and Henry shoved him. “Don't fuckin’ look at him, pussy, why the fuck didn't you tell me? You tell me  _ everything _ .”

“I-I’m sorry, Henry, I'm really sorry… V-Vic told me not to, he said it would be okay…” he tried, looking terrified and almost like he might start crying. “H-He said you wouldn't be hurt, said he was gonna tell you it just weren't the right time… I-I'm so sorry… I-I just thought I was helpin’...”

“Whatever…” he scoffed. He put his head in his hands. “My fuckin’ head is poundin’... Get me somethin’.” He sat down at the counter and started cleaning out your Dad's gun. You knew he had been addressing you, so you rolled your eyes and walked over to the medicine cabinet and opened it. “No. Somethin’ stronger.” You glanced back at him. “Get some beers.”

“You sure about that?” you wondered. “He got bottles this time, he's gonna notice.” He didn't look up at you, shrugging.

“Screw 'im…” he mumbled, wiping at a part of the gun with the cloth his Dad had left for him. You tried to hold back your smile, closing the cupboard and going to the fridge, pulling out one of the cases of beer and setting it on the counter. “And make lunch.”

You paused. “What? How? What do people eat for lunch?” you asked.

“Sandwiches and shit, I dunno…” he shrugged.

“Okay…. Okay, sandwiches, sure…” you said, looking a little frantic. Vic glanced at Belch, who still looked a little upset.

“Belch knows how to make a good sandwich, have him help you out,” Vic suggested. You looked at him, then at Belch, who looked confused.

“I-I mean, sure I guess,” he agreed walking over to you and starting to go through the fridge.

Henry stood up. “Yeah sure. You two do that. Me and Vic are gonna go talk outside,” he said. You glanced back and frowned. Henry stood up quickly and grabbed Vic's arm, pulling him outside.

Vic let himself get dragged outside and around the house, trying to get his thoughts together. “Look, Henry, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Y/N and I--” he started. Henry slammed him back against the side off the house and he gasped as the wind was knocked out of him for a moment. “B-But please don't be so upset, especially not at Belch, he didn't know any better--”

“Right, you got the idiot all mixed up in your fuckin’ Romeo and Juliet bullshit,” he spat at him. Vic frowned deeply, shocked that Henry had called Belch an idiot. He never talked about them like that. “What’re you thinkin’? You tryin'a get yourself  _ and _ her killed?”

“I don't expect you to understand but… Y/N and I are in love, and--”

“Oh _please_,” Henry scoffed. “That's the biggest sack of bullshit anyone's ever given me. You're _in love_? With my sister? Who you've practically only known for, what, a month?”

“You know I've known her longer, Hen, we…” he sighed. “We've loved each other since we were kids, we waited for each other--”

“Nope. More bullshit. You fucked that senior, remember? You screwed her so loud, the three of us could hear you down the block,” he cut him off. Vic groaned and looked down.

“Only because you and Pat were starting to get mean about it, I didn't wanna disappoint you or make you think less of me or whatever…” he explained.

Henry took a moment to try and let this sink in. Vic looked up to him… he still looked up to him, even now, while he was being confused and stupid and trying to be with you. He wanted his approval. “Vic, you wouldn'ta disappointed me. I would'a been concerned,” he corrected him, trying to calm himself down at least a little. “We're  _ men _ , Vicky, we don't  _ wait _ for chicks. We fuck who we want, when we want.”

Vic shrugged. “Maybe  _ you _ do…” he said. “I promised her a long time ago that she would be my first, and she promised me that I would be hers. And I broke that promise, and I feel like such an asshole.”

“You  _ are _ an asshole, Vic,” Henry told him. “You're a huge fuckin’ asshole for tryin'a make up for your stupid broken promise. If she were smart, which she ain't, she wouldn't ever look at you again. For her sake, and yours, I hope she'll get smart.” Vic felt his heart sink, and he looked away from him. “You really wanna keep up this girly little make believe game you two are playin’? Are you really gonna keep on sneakin’ around behind my back, behind my  _ Dad's _ back? Honestly Vic, I don't care if you love you, you hate her, or you just wanna fuck her. If you're the decent guy I think-- no, I  _ know _ you are, you'll save her the pain right now and start acting like the shit you've got goin’ on never happened.”

“That's not gonna happen, and you know it,” Vic told him. Henry rolled his eyes. “You know what that ring was right?”

“Yeah, some kinda fuckin' gay promise ring,” he scoffed.

“No. It was more than that, it was an engagement ring,” he admitted. It took Henry a minute to let that sink in. Then his jaw tensed and he grabbed Vic by the throat and shoved him back against the house again.

“You better be jokin’,” he growled. Vic coughed a little and shook his head. Henry tsked. “You know what my Dad does to her right? You know how he feels about her?” Vic hesitated. “I didn't realize how bad it is 'til last night… but he touches her and shit, stuff a Dad ain't supposed to do. What I  _ did _ know before last night, is that he wants her to stay exactly where she is. He thinks Y/N’s gonna stay in this house and be like his fuckin’ house wife 'til he dies. If you think you're just gonna take her away and marry her, you gotta have as much of a death-wish as she does. You should’a heard her this mornin’, tryin'a get that ring back, fuckin’ yellin’ at him and tellin’ him how horrible she thinks he is, like she forgot what he can do.” He paused and shook his head, letting go of his throat before he started squeezing too hard. “You're gonna get that girl killed pretendin’ you love her.” Vic looked at him, looking almost heartbroken. It made Henry angry, to say the least, that he cared so much about you that he was willing to hurt his feelings and put you in pain.

“B-But I could protect her--”

“You know what? Enough about her. She don't deserve you, Vic, you deserve some hot, fat-assed babe with pretty hair who knows how to fuck you good. Tonight’s Saturday night, there's gonna be tons of chicks down at the Quarry, in tight little bathin’ suits, we're gonna head down there, and we're gonna pick up some chicks.”

“I don't wanna do that, Hen,” he tried.

“Too bad. I'm gonna find you some smokin’ hot babe with some actual fuckin’ curves on her body, okay? And you're gonna take her back to Belch's car, and you're gonna screw her into that damn backseat, you feel me?” he grinned, elbowing him happily.

“You can try and get me with another chick all you want, but I’m not gonna be with anyone else but Y/N,” he admitted. Henry’s face fell, and he glared at him in annoyance. “I’m sorry if that makes you mad, but I love her. That’s it.”

“You’re wastin’ your fuckin’ time,” he sighed. Vic frowned. “She ain't gonna graduate ‘til after you, and you ain’t gonna wanna stick around and wait for her these next three years, are you? You got, what? Two years? A year and a half? That's a whole six months-- maybe a year just sittin’ in this shit town waitin’ for Y/N to either graduate or drop out. It ain't gonna matter either way. My Dad ain’t gonna let her leave, even if that was really what you wanted--”

“It is what I want,” he mumbled.

“Vic, she ain't good enough for you, dude,” he groaned. He wanted to reach out to him and touch his hand or his back or something, but didn't want to come across as gay. Especially after that dream he had about him… the dream that he kept on having, of Vic wanting and needing him and loving him, and  _ only _ him… even now, just the thought of that peppermint and pine were intoxicating…. They had been for weeks, making it hard for Henry to even look at Vic without wanting more, without wanting a confession of his love, his dedication, his need for Henry's love and lust and attention… it was so wrong, and he could only imagine what touching Vic would set off in him..

So he punched his arm lightly. “There's plenty’a sluts in the sea. And on the brightside, now my Dad knows you ain't a fag, so he ain't too upset about you hangin’ with me, if you think about it like that...”

Vic looked up to glare at him. “Great,” he scoffed. “Glad to know what he thinks of me.”

“It don't matter what he thinks’a you, Vic, I'll always like you,” he said, shrugging. “It's gonna be like what you promised, right? Me and you, gonna get outta this town together right? You're gonna be a college man, and I'm gonna get myself on the police force, and we're gonna be a couple’a hot guys pickin’ up chicks in the big city!”

Henry took a step back, trying to relax, and Vic looked at him, regarding what he said. “I did promise that, didn't I…?” he recalled softly. Henry hummed in agreement. “Yeah… yeah, we were just kids… no more than five or six, right? We were hangin’ out down in the Barrens, it was gettin’ kinda dark…”

“And you had on that ratty old jean jacket you used to love so much,” Henry laughed.

“Still got that jacket,” he smirked lightly.

“We'll hang it up on the wall, with a big plaque that says  _ Vicky's Faggy Jacket _ ,” he teased. Vic chuckled and hit his arm lightly. “It'll be a real chick magnet, I'll tell ya.”

Vic sighed and shrugged. “Even if I weren't with Y/N, Henry, I've never been much into gettin’ girls,” he mumbled, leaning against the house.

Henry felt his heart jump. What the fuck did  _ that _ mean? He hoped he just meant right now, cause'a all the stuff with you… he glanced over at him. “Not much into girls…?”

“I mean, yeah… don't care that much about 'em…” he said flatly.

“But you're not into guys, right?” he pressed. Vic tsked.

“I don't really care, to be honest. But not particularly…” he told him. “I lean more towards girls.”

“But you like guys a little?” Henry sat up quickly. Vic rolled his eyes and shrugged

“I dunno, Henry, I just don't care. I think some guys are hot, but I wouldn't ever fuck 'em, I'm not gay,” he insisted. That wasn't entirely true, but he hadn't quite come to that realization yet. And even if he had, he wouldn't have told Henry. Henry would just get mad and yell at him for being a queer…

Henry didn't say anything, staring at Vic and moving to lean against the house next to him. “What'dya mean you think guys are hot?” he wondered. Vic groaned and covered his face.

“I dunno, Hen, I'm just talking,” he snapped. “It's like… it's like how some chicks are hot 'cause they got a nice rack and a fat ass and a cute face. With guys, it's like… I dunno, just some guys are just conventionally attractive.”

“What's conventionally mean?”

Vic didn't say anything for a minute. “Think of it like this. What do girls think is hot in a guy?” he tried. Henry shrugged. “He's probably muscular, nice arms, kinda tall, square jaw, whatever…”

“So like… Belch?” he asked. Vic frowned and looked at him, then looked up at the sky.

“He's not conventional, but I think he's hot,” he explained.

“So not all the things you said? So like Patrick?” he pressed.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Like me?”

Vic sighed. “Yeah, Henry, I know we're all pretty hot… Patrick was kinda greasy and gross though, I never really thought of him as like… hot, I dunno…” he explained.

“You think I'm hot?” Henry asked. Vic looked up at him, seeing his eyes wide and on him.

“It's not gay, it's just… an adjective. Like you sayin’ we're gonna be a couple of hot dudes in the big city, chicks think we're hot,” he sighed. “Henry, you're reading me wrong, I'm into girls, I'm just not ruling out--”

“How do you know you're in love with my sister?”

Vic stared at him, surprised by his rapid fire questions and his sudden change of subject “What's up with you?” he asked.

“Nothin’, I'm tryin'a understand where you're comin’ from,” Henry explained, moving to sit in the grass. Vic grunted as he sat down as well, and rubbed the back of his head. “I'm just… you're turnin’ gay, just 'cause you can't have my sister and you don't want no other girl…” Vic rolled his eyes at Henry’s insistence that you weren’t going to be with him. “How do you know you're not just horny for her, how do you know it's love? How do you know you're in love with someone…?”

Vic thought, shaking his head a bit. “I dunno, it's just like… when you close your eyes… all you picture is the person you love… their smile, their laughter… you just wanna see them happy, and safe, and you’d risk your life to give that to them. When they're near you, you feel stupid, and your heart does this weird fluttery thing that makes you dizzy, and you just wanna smile, and give them everything in the world and you wanna hear them talk and… and they're beautiful, the most beautiful thing in the world… you want them to be yours and only yours, you don't want anyone taking them away from you, or hurting them… and you feel so helpless and alone when they aren't with you… you wanna just… be with them forever…” He closed his eyes a bit. “That soft skin, those sparkling blue eyes… I'm a sucker for blue eyes…”

As Henry listened to him, his face turned red. What, was he reading his mind? It was like he was a doctor, listing off every symptom of a disease, and Henry could check off every one. If he thought about it carefully, Vic could be talking about him…. His skin was fairly soft, and his eyes were bright blue…

“And are you scared they'll find out because they might not love you back? Because it's wrong…?” he found himself asking out loud.

Vic shrugged. “I don't think it's ever wrong to be in love with someone… loves a pretty great thing, and there aren't so many great things in the world, so…” he pointed out. “And… yeah… you're scared they'll find out, but… if you don't act, sooner or later you'll lose them… either they'll fall in love with someone else, or… or you fuck up and sleep with some fucking chick you don't even like….” He leaned back on the house. “So you act as soon as you know. There's nothing wrong with being in love, it's just the possibility of heartbreak, and other people judging them that scares people away from it…” He sat up again and thought. “You know what? Fuck other people. Fuck them, if you love someone, you don't let anyone get in the way of that, Henry.” He looked over at him. “You make them yours and you don't let go.”

Henry knew that Vic was talking about you. But some crazy part of him hoped that it wasn't you that he really loved. Some crazy part of him wanted those words to be true. He didn't want it to matter what other people thought, what was expected. He wanted to let his heart have something, and he didn't want to feel guilty about it. He wanted to act.

“Do you think you're in love with someone, Hen?” he heard Vic ask. He blinked and saw him looking at him curiously… with his big, hazel doe eyes, and his plump lips… Henry felt that fluttery feeling in his heart that made him dizzy, just like Vic had said. He moved closer to him, and Vic frowned a bit. “What is it?”

“I-I just…” he started, trying to pick out the right words. “Vic I--”

“Hey guys, we made lunch!”

They both looked over as you came around the corner, smiling brightly. Henry quickly looked down, coughing a bit. Vic stood up and Henry watched him with a frown as he walked over to you.

“Awesome,” Vic chuckled.

“I've never made lunch before, I'm not bad at it!” you told him, excitement in your eyes and in your bright smile. “Maybe if I can get away with stealing my Dad's food more often I'll make lunch more.”

Vic laughed and touched your waist gently. “Can't wait to try it,” he told you. He leaned down and kissed you softly, and Henry sighed heavily, looking ahead before he could get too angry with Vic. It wasn't his fault, he didn't know. He didn't understand, how could he…? He started pulling at the grass next to him, grabbing handfuls of it and feeling his heart start pounding in his chest. “Hold on, baby, we'll be right in, alright?” You nodded happily and went back inside.

Vic was sitting back next to him before he realized it, facing him now, and Henry looked up at him. “Sorry, Henry. What were you gonna say?” he asked sweetly. So sweetly, god he was so sweet, he licked his lips a little, daring to look up at him, looking into those fuckin’ hazel, bright eyes. He wanted to kiss those pink, pretty lips, he wanted to know what it felt like to sink his teeth in them and hear his sweet noises, he wanted him underneath him, squirming, gasping,  _ crying _ … he wanted Vic to see him the way he saw you. He wanted to be the most beautiful thing in the world, he wanted to be the  _ only _ thing. He wanted him to  _ know _ it, even if he had to force to know it, to feel it. “Henry…”

“Yeah…?” Henry mumbled. Vic smiled lightly, watching his friend's far off gaze get dark.

“You can tell me anything, Henry, I won't tell…” he told him, putting a hand on his arm

Henry blinked, taking a breath. “Just… let me try something. Please,” he said. Vic still smiled, nodding slowly. Henry thought about this. His heart was pounding, his palms were clammy… his brain was racing between  _ do it, don't do it, do it, don't do it…. _

** _She tried to steal him from you, make him yours_ ** .

He realized that it wasn’t his voice that was talking to him. It was a voice he had heard many times this summer, the voice that told him to cut up Ben Hanscom and attack Mike Hanlon and kill the Loser kids… it was like the voice from his dreams, the ones where he tore the kids apart… And those dreams he had been having were so… empowering. It always felt right to listen to the voices. He pushed his nerves out of the way and brought his hand up to Vic's face, setting his hand on his cheek and leaned towards him, pressing their lips together.

In his mind, everything suddenly made sense. Those perfectly mixed peppermint and cigarette and pine scents and tastes became reality, Vic's lips were as soft and plump as he had dreamed. His skin was pale and soft, and… and he was perfect… Henry thought how he deserved this. He deserved this happiness, this perfection, this literal angel among men. It wasn't gay if what he was in love with was an angel… something in his head clicked into place. The dreams he had been having melded together into some warped reality, they had been the battle leading up to this pleasure. Each child he had torn apart prepared him for destroying all the heavenly images of his mother. She wasn't an angel, she was a slut, a demon, and now she was dead to him. And you. You were no princess, not the way Dad built you up to be. You were a selfish brat, and now he had gotten you out of the way, away from Dad's favor, and away from what was his. Vic was the one true angel, the true prince that he had fought for, torn people limb from limb to even deserve. This all made sense now, as he moved his lips against his, and finally smiled, really smiled.

“Henry!”

He opened his eyes, starting back, catching himself on his hands quickly. He frowned deeply, looking up at Vic on the porch. “Come on, she made you lunch too,” he told him. Henry blinked, looking next to him, seeing the empty spot, feeling the cold. “You alright?”

“Y-Yeah, fine,” he lied softly, standing up slowly.

“Come on, man, Belch is gonna eat your sandwich if you don't hurry up,” he joked. Henry barely had time to respond before Vic hurried back inside.

He stared at the ground, shocked. It had felt so real… Vic had been next to him, kissing him and it had felt so right… it was what he had needed, it was beautiful and it somehow completed a part of himself that he hadn't known had been incomplete… but Vic hadn't been there, he hadn't kissed him, he hadn't finally accepted his love…

He felt the ache in his head throb a bit and he grabbed it, groaning softly to himself.

** _That's how it feels… it feels like you've been cheated… all the love you give him, everything you can give him, and he chooses her… and he lies to you, look what she's made him into, she's going to take him away from you forever, and he'll barely remember your name--_ **

“Shut up!” he snapped, gasping a little and looking around. Seeing the coast was clear, he closed his eyes tightly and tried to block out the dream voice. “Shut… up… not now…”

** _Stupid bitch… Dad’s gonna kill you if you don't do something quick about her… or about him… remember what I said, Henry, about doing something about Dad? We told her we'd do something about him. You know what you have to do... I have a very special gift for you, you'll see very soon, it's almost time…._ **

The voice trailed off, and Henry took a breath, gulping heavily as the world started becoming a little quieter again. It usually wasn't that easy to get the voices to go away… maybe he was starting to get ahold of them, maybe he was finally in control of this…

He cleared his throat, trying to straighten himself out, and walked back to the porch and into the house.


	9. Don't Take The Risk If You Aren't Willing to Pay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 5,310  
Rating: SFW  
Warnings: unstable character, underage drinking, shooting a gun while drinking AND without a license, August 1989, unhealthy obsession, Meatball is fine, verbal/mental/slight physical abuse, even unhealthier obsession, I named Belch and Vic’s parents (Molly Huggins (maiden name Green), Louisa Criss [also I called his dad Joe Criss]), past abuse/torture (not gore but really bad abuse), Derry Children’s Hour, full on possession, death/murder

You felt Vic's hand hold your bottom playfully, and you blushed, shifting in his lap. “Vic, stop, your friend's right there…” you mumbled. Belch laughed a bit through his food.

“He's seen worse,” Vic pointed out, setting his sandwich down on his plate and leaning forward to kiss you gently. You winced. “What?”

“You taste like mayonnaise…” you told him. He chuckled and kissed you again. You whined and pulled away. “Vicky, it's weird--”

“Hey, you taste like it too,” he pointed out. You pouted and grabbed your beer, taking a sip to wash down the taste of sandwich. Vic did the same, and you glanced at Henry's untouched lunch, then looked towards the door.

“You think he's gonna come in?” you asked worriedly.

“I dunno… he had somethin’ to tell me, but when I went back to ask what he needed to say he just kinda… stared at me for a few minutes. So I told him I'd leave him alone and I went inside,” he explained.

“Yeah, but that was like, half an hour ago…” Belch pointed out.

“Almost an hour,” you corrected, glancing at the clock.

“Yeah, I went to ask if he was coming in half an hour ago,” Vic agreed. “He's been out there for almost an hour…”

You sighed, getting up from Vic's lap. “I'll wrap up his lunch and go check on him again…” Vic stood up and put his hand on your lower back, rubbing lightly and taking the plate from you.

“I got this,” he told you. You smiled a little, and went on your toes to kiss him softly, he pulled you a little closer, and you put your hand on his cheek.

You heard Belch groan. “I'm eating,” he teased. “Can't you do that somewhere else!”

“You've  _ been _ eating, bud, sucked down half a dozen sandwiches in the last hour, all while we've been makin’ out,” Vic grinned. You blushed deeply and looked down. “But if it's really bothering you… I guess we'll go do it in your car?”

“Fuckin’ try it, Crissy,” Belch laughed. You laughed a little and kissed Vic again, letting him go before going towards the door. You paused when Henry walked up the porch and opened the door.

He stopped in the doorway when he saw you, and the other two looked at him. “I-I was just coming to check on you,” you told him. He gulped and walked past you to the counter, sitting down. Vic set his plate in front of him and grabbed another beer for him.

“We were worried, you didn't come in,” he explained. “Everything alright?”

Henry hesitated, glancing at the clock. One o’clock? He had been outside for an hour? How could that be…?

“Fine,” he lied, picking up his sandwich and biting into it. You frowned, and went to stand next to Vic, picking your plate and his and setting them on the counter behind you. You grabbed your drinks and set them down as well. “Huh, maybe you can make food after all…”

You looked up at Henry as he spoke, and you smiled a bit. “You think? I was scared you didn't like it, you didn't say anything at first,” you said.

“Yeah, I like it,” he mumbled, taking another bite of his sandwich. You glanced back at Belch, who was on his sixth sandwich that hour, then at Vic, who was standing next to you and eating silently, the way he did.

“What about you, you didn't tell me, do you like it?” you asked him, nudging his arm with your elbow. He glanced down at you smirking a bit as he swallowed his food.

“Beautiful, and a good cook,” he teased, pinching your bottom slyly. You gasped and pushed him.

“Stop that…” you hissed, glancing at Henry. He just picked up his beer and took a sip slowly, looking at the table. He knew you were watching him, you could tell... “You okay?” He shrugged a bit, continuing to sip from his own drink. “Want me to sit with you?” He just shrugged again, so you grabbed your plate and your beer, and you walked to the counter, sitting in the seat next to him. You stared at him for a minute. “Wanna hug?”

“What?” he scoffed, looking up at you. You smiled a little, seeing that you had gotten his attention. “No, fuck off.” You pouted and he tsked going back to eating. “Stop that, I'm still mad at you.”

You really frowned now, looking down. “I'm sorry,” you said. He glanced at you. “I didn't wanna lie Henry…”

“But you did…” he reminded you. “Doesn't matter now. You clearly ain't gonna let it go, so I won't stop you… just… keep it out of my face, and don't start actin’ like a little slut.” You gulped and nodded. “And stop actin’ so happy. Dad's gonna kill you when he gets home.”

You gulped. “We can stand up to him, Henry--”

“Don't be an idiot, you ain't gonna do shit, it's gonna be me on my own against him…” he mumbled. He tensed up, glancing at his friends and sitting up straight. “I mean, I can take him, obviously. But it's such a waste'a my time and energy.”

You sighed, shrugging. “Don't let that ruin the rest of your day.” He was only two bites into his lunch and already three-quarters of the way through the sandwich. He stood up, swallowing heavily.

“Yeah, you're right,” he said, picking up the gun he had been cleaning, and starting to put it back together. “Go get dressed, you been wearin’ that shirt for three days.” You looked down at your outfit and blushed a little, realizing that he was right. You hurried towards the bedroom, and Henry went to the cupboard where your Dad kept his liquor and his guns, pulling out a box of bullets.

“What're we doing Henry?” Belch asked curiously.

He brought the bullets to the counter and started loading them into the gun, glancing at his friend. “We're gonna shoot some stuff,” he told him. “With my Dad's gun. And drink my Dad's beer.”

“You sure about that, Henry?” Vic wondered cautiously. “He's already gonna be mad, I mean, about--”

“Screw 'im. Fuck that piece’a shit, he can get as fuckin’ mad as he wants, see if I care,” Henry cut him off, closing the box of bullets and putting it in his jeans pocket. Vic glanced at Belch, who looked at Henry with such a look of admiration, almost starstruck. He had always been so impressionable, especially when it came to Henry. Anything Henry did was the greatest thing in the world to Belch. Vic looked down, ever the submissive one to Henry's plans, and Henry looked down at himself. “Y/N! Get me a new fuckin’ shirt!”

“Which one?” you called.

“Red,” he told you. You came out a few minutes later, in a black muscle tee, handing him his red shirt. He needed to be the center of attention right now, you knew that. He was getting mean, and when he got mean, it usually meant he thought he wasn't getting the attention he deserved. You glanced away, going to the couch and getting Henry's bedding from his chair as he set the shirt on the table and pulled off his old one. You glanced up, seeing the scars across his back. You knew that all Vic and Belch could see were his abs and his muscles, and that's all he wanted them to see. He wanted to see Belch's impressed but timid stare and Vic's proud stance. He wanted them to look up to him. He glanced back at you as you brought his bedding to the bedroom, and tossed you his dirty shirt. You caught it, and threw it in the laundry room, continuing on your path.

“Have fun,” you called.

“You ain't comin’?” Henry asked. You paused, once you'd dropped his bedding on his bed, before walking out to him.

“Can I?” you wondered, watching him pull down his shirt. He tsked.

“Sure you can,” he mumbled, picking up the beer case from the table, holding it out to you. “'s long as you carry the beer, little girl.” You smiled brightly and nodded, and he grabbed the gun off of the counter, starting towards the door. You looked at Vic happily, seeing him smile weakly back at you. You waited for Belch to follow Henry outside before moving to walk next to Vic, standing close to him.

**\---**

“Nice, bud,” Henry laughed. Belch grunted a little, handing the gun to Henry and standing off to the side. “You  _ almost _ hit it.”

“Yeah,  _ almost _ ,” he scoffed.

“Yeah, just aim a little to the left next time. Like three feet to the left,  _ near _ the target,” Henry smirked. Belch blinked and looked down. “No points for you.” He looked at you. “He ain't shootin’ no more, take your fingers outta your ears before they get stuck there.”

You unplugged your ears, adjusting how you were sitting on the old, tarp-covered crate. “It's loud,” you told him.

“It's a fuckin’ gun,” he scoffed. You blushed and looked down. “Get me a beer…” You glared up at him and he smirked. “Oh come on, be a good little sister and get me one…” You didn't move.

“I thought you guys was twins,” Belch spoke up, Henry turned and looked at him.

“What?”

“Yeah. My Mama said you was… Irish twins,” he clarified.

Vic put his hand on his head and sighed. “Bud, that just means they were born the same year. Their Mama got pregnant again with Y/N right after she had Henry,” he explained. Belch frowned.

“That makes a lot more sense… 'cause you always says your a year apart, so I didn't know why Mama said you was twins…” he said.

“Ten months apart,” you sighed. You watched Henry start aiming the gun again and you put your fingers back in your ears. He looked at you and tsked, lowering the gun. You frowned, and pulled your fingers back out.

“You know how to shoot one, baby sis?” He held the barrel, holding it towards you. You looked nervous. “What, 're you scared, princess?”

“I ain't a princess, and I ain't scared,” you told him, standing up and walking over to him, taking the gun. You gulped… it looked so much smaller when he was holding it.

“Prove it. Point it at the bottle, hit it,” he said, stepping back.

“M-Maybe she shouldn't,” Vic spoke up, starting to stand up.

“She wants to be a big girl, let’s see if she can do it,” Henry ordered. Vic gulped and sat back down, watching you nervously as you tried to aim the gun at the bottle. “Aim it, right there.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled.

“Keep your hands steady, grip it good with both hands, it's gonna kick,” he explained. You hesitated.

“What's that mean?” you asked.

“You'll see. Don't flinch,” he warned. You gulped, taking a breath and tried to aim more. “Want me to plug your ears for you, little girl?” You tensed your jaw and pulled the trigger of the gun, missing your target by way more than you thought you would, but hitting something off near the barn. You gasped as the gun recoiled, trying not to flinch like Henry had said, stumbling back a bit and blinking at the painful ringing in your ears. You could hear Henry laughing at you, and saw him take the gun out of your hands. “You alright there, little girl?” You nodded blankly and he pushed you back. “Go sit down, idiot, you missed the bottle by a mile. But… You got that can back there, so five points for you.”

You blushed and went back to sit on your box, putting your fingers in your ears again to try and get the ringing to stop. You saw Vic wave at you, and you looked at him. He pointed at his ears and mouthed  _ can you hear? _ You nodded and glanced at Henry as he reloaded the gun.

“What about you, Crissy, you shot a gun?” he asked. Vic looked up at him.

“No… I been to the range with my Dad sometimes though,” he said.

“Come on, then, let's see how you do,” Henry insisted, holding the gun to him. Vic hesitated. “Come on, Criss, don't wanna look like a puss in front’a your girl, do you?” Vic blushed and glanced at you, standing up and taking it from him. You watched curiously, and he gulped, changing his position, holding the gun in his hand and aiming it at a brown bottle. Henry hesitated and stepped forward, lifting his elbow a little. He stepped back, then stepped forward again, bringing his elbow back down a little.

“Henry,” Vic sighed, looking at him. Henry frowned.

“You're gonna throw out your shoulder holding it like that,” he told him, stepping forward again. “And I ain't about to take you to the doctor. Turn your hips… no, that way. Just stand normal, Vic but sturdier.” He stood behind him, taking his wrists and adjusting his grip on the gun. He pressed himself against his back, adjusting where he aimed the gun. His head was almost resting on Vic's shoulder, and he took a moment to just inhale his scent… sweat from the summer heat, cigarettes, just Vic… that fucking peppermint. It made his heart thunder in his chest.

He caught himself before he could do anything else, backing up slightly. “There. Shoot,” he told him. Vic pulled the trigger, and the bottle shattered. You jumped a little and took your fingers out of your ears, frowning deeply. Vic looked shocked, then smiled brightly, turning to look at Henry. “Perfect…”

“Dude, that was awesome,” he told his friend excitedly.

“Ten points for Crissy,” Henry said. Vic beamed and sat back down in his chair. Belch rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.

“That ain't fair, Henry, you helped him,” he pointed out. Henry sent him a glare. “It's fine though…”

“Yeah it is,” he agreed. He glanced at you, seeing you looking at him in concern. He glared at you and you looked right down. “Besides, you hit one earlier. And we're runnin’ out of bottles.” He held up the gun with one hand. “We get extra points for hittin’ 'em now.” He shot it off, hitting an old whiskey bottle and watching it exploded. Vic clapped and cleared a little, and Belch's face lit up again.

“Yeah, bonus,” he agreed. Henry glanced at you again, seeing you with your fingers back in your ears. He was getting to everyone. You were backing down from the center of attention, and Vic and Belch were in awe of him again.

He saw movement near the fence, and waved the gun in that direction. You glanced over, seeing a stray cat stalking through a pile of rusting junk, trying to get shade from the August sun. “Go get our next target out there,” he said. Belch looked a little shocked, then concerned. Henry glared at him silently, so he looked down and shrugged, walking over and carefully picking up the cat.

You looked at your brother worriedly. “Henry, no,” you tried.

“Shut up, Y/N,” he growled, pointing the gun as Belch tried to hold the cat where they had been setting up bottles. “Just hold it!”

“Henry what if you miss and shoot him?” you pointed out, standing up.

“I said shut up, Y/N,” he said more sternly, closing one eye to get his aim better. You opened your mouth to argue more, but then you saw the cop car… and your Dad walking towards the group. He wasn't supposed to be home yet, he  _ never _ got home this early.

“Henry--” you started.

“What the Hell’s goin’ on here…?” your Dad asked coldly. You saw Henry's eyes widen, and he froze, lowering the gun and looking down. Vic stood up quickly, turning around and backing up towards Belch, who let go of the cat.

You stood completely still, waiting for Henry to say something. “Just… cleanin’ your gun, like you asked…” he told him, not knowing what else to say as he turned, still looking at the ground.

“You're cleanin’ my gun, huh?” your Dad repeated skeptically. He stopped right in front of Henry, looking down on him, daring him to say something else. You saw Henry glance at you, and you glared at your Dad nervously.

Henry gulped and took a shaky breath. “Dad--”

“Hey!” your Dad yelled, loud enough that it echoed across the yard, and made you and Vic and Belch wince a little. You saw your Dad look over at you, then look back down at Henry. “Why's your sister out here?” Henry didn't dare say anything else, and your Dad moved away from him walking over to you and sizing you up. “What've I told you about bein’ around the boys?”

You gulped, looking up at him coldly. “Not to,” you responded calmly. He glared right back at you and you tensed your jaw nervously. “We was just--"

Your head snapped to the side as he slapped you hard across the face. You were a little shocked for a minute, then blinked back the tears in your eyes, seeing Belch holding Vic's arm to hold him back from coming to your aid. You felt your Dad grab your face and he pulled you back to look at him, closer this time.

“I smell beer… you been drinkin’?” he asked. You grabbed his arm, trying to get his grip off of you, not wanting to be so close. “You know you ain't supposed to be drinkin’...”

“I ain't supposed to be doin’ lot's a things,” you said coldly. He laughed in his throat, throwing you on the ground next to him. You fell on your hands and knees, crying out a bit from the impact, then quickly standing back up.

“You're really startin’ to remind me of your Mama…” he told you. Vic watched you tense up and look down, and he saw Henry look away from you and your Dad. Being like your Mama wasn't a good thing, then… it meant something bad. “It ain't gonna turn out the way you think it is, sweetheart… go on and wait for me inside.” You glanced at Vic, embarrassed by your fear, then at Henry as you quickly turned to go towards the house.

You turned as you started up the porch as you heard a gunshot, and saw your Dad shooting the ground next to Henry. Henry had his arms over his face, wincing away from the bullets, and you could see Vic and Belch jumping back with every shot. When your Dad finally stopped, he said something that made both of them glare at him, before he turned and started walking back towards the house. You took a shaky breath and hurried inside to quickly put the food away and get the dishes in the sink.

He walked in as you started washing the dishes, and you glanced over at him to make sure he wasn't going to come at you. “What the hell were you doin’ out there with them?” he asked, stopping next to the counter. You gulped, looking at your dishes.

“I was just takin’ a break from cleanin’ up… Henry thought it'd be okay if I got a little fresh air for a few minutes,” you explained. “He wanted me close so he could keep an eye on me.”

“Your brother's an idiot…” he told you. You blinked and sighed. “The best thing for you’s to stay inside… it's too hot out for you to go out.” You frowned and looked at him. “If you gotta go out dressed like that 'cause'a the heat, you should just stay inside.” You looked down at your shorts and muscle tee, then glanced back up at him

“I been wearin’ this for the past four summers…” you pointed out.

“You was a girl four summers ago… now you're a woman… and you look so much like Mama…” he mumbled. You froze and looked down, tensing up as you heard him start walking towards you. “Your Mama was the prettiest girl in this town. She had every boy in town after her, wantin’ to marry her… looks like you got that from her.”

You sighed. “Up until now, you been the only person in town who wants to marry me,” you told him quietly. He chuckled, putting his hand on your waist. You winced, looking down. He didn't even deny it… You moved away from his hold, and he brought his hand to the back of your neck. You froze.

“We need to talk about this mornin’, baby,” he said softly. You gulped. “You can't be talkin’ to me like that… and you gotta stop givin’ me that ugly look. Makes me think you don't love me.” You tensed up, setting the dish in your hand in the sink slowly before shrugging his hand off your neck, sliding past him quickly to try and get to the bathroom. He grabbed your arm before you could even get around the corner, and pulled it behind you, pushing you against the wall. You cried out and tried to push back against him. “Why’re you actin’ up, baby?”

“Why didn't you tell me Mama calls you?” you countered. He hesitated.

“Who told you that?”

“Mrs. Huggins,” you said. He scoffed. “She told me Mama calls you when you're at work.”

“Why were you talkin’ to Mrs. Huggins?” he asked. You didn't answer. “I always liked Molly… been a little firecracker since she was your age… if I hadn'ta gotten Peggy Montgomery, think I would'a gone for Molly Green.” You shifted a bit, trying to think how to get out of his grip. “Shame Huggins got to her first… fattened her up like a pig, knocked her up and left her. Real shame.” He pressed himself against you. “I get it though… I never really liked skinny girls… she's a good lookin’ woman, Molly… maybe I'll make her your new Mama…”

“You have a girlfriend,” you reminded him coldly. He shrugged.

“And I got a beautiful daughter, too,” he added. You gasped as he pulled your arm back. “Ain't I lucky…?” You gasped again, a bit sharper, as you felt him pull your other arm.

“Daddy stop--”

“Too bad she's got her own boy… damn women put their kids before their men,” he scoffed.

“Your’s didn't,” you pointed out. He chuckled, and you were turned around, pressed back against the wall again. “Mrs. Huggins would never marry you…”

“Probably not,” he smirked. “Not sure I'd wanna marry her, anyway… it's a nice thought, she's a good woman ain't she? But she's too fiesty, she'd fight too much… and she's too big to fight with, wouldn't be no fun. Plus she'd have her boy by her side too… I don't mind that big idiot, if I'm being honest, he's a hard worker, knows his way around an engine. But he'd just be in the way. And he likes Henry too much…”

“Well don't worry, Mrs. Huggins wouldn't marry you,” you repeated coldly. You saw him lick his teeth and smirk a little.

“You know who'd be a good woman…?” he continued. “Louisa Criss. Damn, that woman’s somethin’, I'll tell you… makes some’a my works breaks a whole lot nicer, if you know what I mean.” You tensed up. “Joe ain't ever around no more, poor woman puts out like a whore.”

“Stop--”

“Bet she'd be real quick to run to me if her husband left her,” he grinned. “Bet she'd be a good woman, too, bet she'd listen to what I say, and wouldn't get too mad if I taught that damn brat of her’s a lesson. Bet he'd be a little bitch, too, bet he can't take a beating near as good as you can--”

“You're disgusting,” you blurted. You immediately regretting letting the words slip out, seeing his gaze darken. But in a rush of anger you continued. “You aren't the only person in the world, we don't all have to cater to you. We don't all have to love you, Butch, you shouldn't expect--”

You were on the floor before you could finish, and he kicked you in the side. You cried out in pain and moved away from him quickly, holding your side. “Go to the bedroom… don't come out ‘til I tell you to…” he ordered coldly. You winced as you stood up, glaring at him a bit before walking to the bedroom. For all you knew, he might not let you out until tomorrow, maybe until the next day, or the next day. He had told Henry to stay there for four days one time until he gave him a sincere apology… it had been horrible, Henry had been miserable, sobbing constantly as he lay on his bed, starving, and pissing himself multiple times since he had no other choice… it was all you could do to bring him water a few times a day, whenever you could sneak it in.

You gritted your teeth as you shut the door to the bedroom. You wanted Henry to kill him more than ever now… everything he had put you both through, the way he treated Henry like a dog, the way he acted like you were his wife that he could abuse… the way he taunted you both and acted like you were nothing compared to him… you sat on the edge of your bed and clenched your hands into fists…

Your family wasn't technically religious, you hadn't been to church since long before Mama had left. But there was always some kind of “God” that was just out there somewhere, since that's what everyone said. You closed your eyes and thought hard. Henry had said he was going to kill him… please make Henry kill him, God, please don't make us live in this hell anymore…

You heard the faintest sound of children laughing and you opened your eyes, looking around in confusion. You shivered, feeling cold suddenly surround you and you closed your eyes tightly, seeing nothing but red. The red of Henry's shirt, the red of the balloon, the red of the mailbox, the red of the package, the blood, the blood,  _ so much blood _ .

You gasped and opened your eyes wide. You heard front door opened and you looked up quickly, frowning. You could hear the muffled sound of the TV, and footsteps, but no one said anything. You stood up carefully and went to the bedroom door, opening it slowly and silently, looking out. You took a breath, knowing that you shouldn't be sneaking out of the bedroom after being sent in there, but… you felt a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach… something was off about the presence in the house.

You walked carefully towards the living room, silently hiding behind the wall and staring at your brother standing over your sleeping father. You wanted to call out to him, to ask him what was wrong and what he was doing. But something kept your mouth shut. You watched him, standing cautiously with his switch-blade in his hand. It was closed, but--

Wait, he had lost that knife the day Patrick had gone missing… that's what he had said, at least…

“I just love watching things float!” a pleasant voice from the TV said. You glanced up at Henry, seeing his head turned, his eyes hesitantly gazing at the TV. You followed his gaze to see what was on the TV. It was just the Derry Children’s Hour, it came on every day around four… it was always a sort of background noise, you weren’t sure if anyone ever really watched it...

“Down here, we  _ all _ float!” one of the kids said happily.

“That's right!” You frowned, seeing Henry almost back away, then saw the woman on the TV look forward. “And you will too, Henry.” You felt like everything froze, and you saw Henry move forward slowly. “Make it a wonderful day!  _ Kill him _ !”

Your mouth fell open a little in shock. You couldn't quite understand why or how, but the woman on the TV was speaking directly to your brother. And when you looked back at him, he was standing next to your Dad again, the knife closed against the side of his neck.

The woman and the children on the TV started chanting at Henry to kill him, kill him,  _ kill him _ \--

You covered your mouth as you heard the snap of the switchblade open and your Dad's eyes shot open. “Oh no! Give him a  _ big _ round of applause!” said a different voice from the TV. But you were too preoccupied watching your father start struggling to pull the knife out of his neck, in the process splattering Henry in blood. Your Dad grunted and tried to grab at him, while also trying to hold his neck to stop more blood from pouring out. Of course it was pointless, and Henry just stared down at him, his breathing becoming rapid in his struggle to get our Dad to let go of him, his eyes wide and cold. You watched as your Dad fell completely still, his eyes still glaring at Henry.

“Well done, Henry!” the woman's voice said.

“Kill them all! Kill them all!” the children started chanting. You tried to keep yourself from sobbing seeing Henry watching the TV now. You looked over to see the woman from before gone, a-- clown?

It grinned wickedly at Henry as the children continued to chant faster and faster  _ kill them all, kill them all, kill them all _ !

You looked forward at your brother, and saw that he was staring right at you. You throat closed up. “H-Henry…” you whimpered.

Henry started slowly moving towards you, staring at you blankly. “I told ya he wouldn't hurt you no more, Y/N,” he said softly. You watched him and backed up a little. “He can't hurt us no more…”

You breathed in sharply and shook your head. “Y-You killed him!” you hissed, covering your mouth again. He stopped in front of you, tilting his head a bit. “H-Henry, what's wrong with you?!”

“Nothin's wrong with me, Y/N. That bastard can't hurt us no more, ain't that what you've always wanted?” he pointed out. He spoke quickly, sounding a little frantic. “Ain't it? That’s what you asked for...”

“N-Not like…”

“Like this…? You asked for this, this was what you  _ wanted _ . This was the only way…” he insisted, his voice cracking a bit. You sobbed lightly. “Come here…” You looked right at him, seeing him-- but not him. He looked too… blank. He looked vacant, and what you could only describe as psychotic. You saw movement behind him and looked up out the window, seeing light reflecting off the blue of--

Belch's car. They were still here…  _ Vic _ was still here! You had to warn them.

“Kill her, Henry,” the clown on the TV said. You looked at it, seeing it grinning right at you.

“Vic deserves better than you,” Henry said, his voice suddenly cold. You looked up at him and frowned. “He was never supposed to be with you… but you steal  _ everything _ from me…” You could see the hand holding the knife shaking as his grip tightened on it.

Without thinking, you started running, right past him to the front door. You felt a sharp pain on your side as you ran past, but you ignored it, and you ignored the static sound of the TV, and the still bleeding dead body of your Dad, and you slammed open the door, running outside.


	10. Don't Be Afraid, They'll Come Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 5,237  
Rating: SFW  
Warnings: changes from the canon plot, attempted murder, unhealthy obsession, broken bone (not detailed), Belch being a soft boy, panic attack, characters in shock, DIY stitching a wound (don’t try it at home unless you know how)

“Y/N--?!” Vic started, standing up from the car, shocked to see you.

“Run!” you screamed. He and Belch stood still until you reached them and they could see how frightened you were.

“What the hell’s goin’ on?” Belch asked. He looked up, frowning. “Henry--?”

“Come on, we have to run! We have to hide,  _ please _ !” you begged them, looking back and seeing Henry stalking towards you. You whimpered. “Guys,  _ come on _ !”

“Y/N, what's--?” Vic trailed off. “He's got blood on him…” Belch seemed to notice this and stumbled back.

“H-He killed Dad… H-He's gonna try'n kill us, come on!” you pleaded.

“Oh… oh shit--!”

You felt Vic pull you to the side, and you looked back, seeing Belch grabbing Henry's arms to keep him from stabbing him. “Hen!? Henry, what's wrong?!” he yelled.

“Don’t worry, Reg… just hold still!” he growled. Belch looked panicked, and in an impulsive move of self-defense, he kneed his attacker in the stomach. Henry doubled over and Belch fell to the ground, crawling backwards quickly.

As Vic and you grabbed him and helped him up, you heard something hit the ground. “My keys!” Belch gasped, trying to stop you as you started running away.

“Leave them, come on!” you screamed. He panicked and followed you as you held onto Vic and ran to the barn. “In here! I'll lock the doors!”

They looked back, and hurried inside when they saw Henry had stood up and started towards them again. You followed them quickly and pulled on the barn door to slide it closed as quickly as you could. Then you bolted it and grabbed some chain off the ground to further secure the door. Once you knew it was secure, you ran to the back door and shut it quietly, locking it. You ran back to Vic and Belch.

“We have to hide,” Vic hissed. You nodded, feeling a little lightheaded. You leaned against Vic and held your side as you felt a sharp pain. Belch was looking around, and Vic moved forward, so you stood up, letting him go to his friend. “Reg, I need you to listen to me.” Belch stopped and looked right at him. “You can't make a sound, okay? You need to be completely silent, don't let him talk you out of where you're hiding. You stay in one spot, and be completely silent. Okay? Don’t come out until I tell you to.” Belch stared at him, and took off his hat. “Everything’s gonna be fine, just… repeat what I said.”

“Um… be completely silent, don’t let Henry talk me out of where I’m hidin’, don’t come out ‘til you tell me to,” he repeated back to him, sounding like he was going to start crying. Vic moved forward and hugged him tightly. When he moved back, Belch gulped. “Vic, he ain't gonna kill us, is he? H-Henry wouldn’t--”

“It’s not him,” you whispered. He looked at you. “Go, hide. Somewhere where he won’t get you.” He took a breath and nodded, hurrying off towards the junk pile under the second level of the barn. You felt Vic take your hand, and you followed him quickly to the ladder. He made sure you were up a ways before he started climbing. As you moved farther up, you paused, feeling your dizziness get worse. Vic touched your waist gently.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” he asked worriedly. You looked down at him, and he moved his hand suddenly, looking it at. You could see it covered in blood, and you whimpered softly. He climbed up a bit more, and gripped your waist, lifting you to help you up the rest of the way. You winced and felt him carry you towards a pile of old, rotting crates. He moved them out of the way and sat you behind them, climbing in next to you and pulling them to hide you both. You heard the sound of something breaking, and you figured Henry had broken in somehow.

Vic pulled you close to him, holding your side to try and keep you from bleeding too much. You leaned your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes, trying to keep your breathing steady.

“Reg…” you heard Henry call gently. Vic swore almost silently under his breath. “Where are you, bud? You know I wouldn’t hurt you…”

You knew that Belch had gone and hidden in some of the old junk right under you, and you tried to look through the cracks, but you couldn't quite see where he was. You could see Henry though, moving slowly around the pile.

“You trust me, don't you, Reg?” he asked. “Come on, I got somethin’ to show you…”

You saw movement in one corner, and moved a little, seeing Belch in that corner, curled up as small as he could make himself, and mostly covered, but visible from the top. Henry started moving towards him. You nudged Vic, and pointed to the situation. He pulled you impossibly closer to him, and kissed your head.

“Come on, Reg, I know you're here… did Vic tell you not to come out? I've always been your best friend, haven't I? I wouldn't hurt you…” Henry continued.

“Y/N…” Vic whispered. You looked at him, and he took your face in his hands, putting his forehead to yours. “I need you to stay right here, alright? I gotta help Reg, I need to distract Henry, but I'll be right back, I promise.”

“No,” you insisted. “That's a promise you can't keep. You can't go out there, you'll die…”

“I gotta help him… everything will be alright, I promise… I love you so much…” he told you, kissing your head. You felt your lip tremble and you held onto his arm tightly. “I love you…”

You kept your eyes on him for a minute, then you looked back down, seeing Henry getting closer to where Belch was hiding. “Come on out, Reg… I'm not mad at you, I promise…” he said.

“Henry!”

Vic put his hand over your mouth as you yelled out, and he pulled you against him so that Henry couldn't see you through the floor. Henry looked up and around, then started walking farther from where Belch was, starting to move towards the ladder. You turned quietly, wincing at the pain in your side, and pulled Vic's hand away from your mouth, touching his cheek gently. You mouthed an  _ I love you _ to him, and kissed him gently. He held onto you, and you carefully got his hands off of you, and climbed out of your hiding spot. He kept trying to reach out and pull you back, but you got out, pushing another box in front of him. You felt your head spin and you leaned on the box, hearing Henry climbing up the ladder, then walk towards you. You stood up straight as he came into view, and took a deep breath.

“I was hoping you wouldn't hide… I wanna kill you the most…” he told you, holding his knife tightly in his hand. You glanced at it, then looked back at him.

“Why?” you asked softly. He moved closer to you.

“Because you take…  _ everything _ I want, everythin’ I  _ love _ ….” he growled. You shook your head. “Yes! You do! Dad loved you more! Mama loved you more! You even took Vic from me, you  _ bitch _ !” He took a shaky breath and moved towards you quickly, and you backed up. “Everyone loves you more… and I'm sick of it… I'm not gonna be second to you no more…”

“You really think killin’ me is gonna make Vic love you…?” you wondered. He hesitated.

“No…” he admitted. “That's why I have to kill him too. So I can keep him forever and he can't leave…”

You took a shaky breath. “Henry, please…” you whimpered. “We do love you…  _ I _ love you… so do Vic and Belch… we'll help you, just… please, put the knife away, we'll help you…”

“I don't need my knife to kill you,” he chuckled. You heard the knife click closed, and he stuck it in his pocket, moving towards you again. You backed away more, then gasped as you nearly slipped off the edge of the platform. He grabbed your shirt and held you up. You grabbed his arms and whimpered.

“Henry--”

“Tell me where they are,” he insisted. You sobbed a little, and he steadied himself, bringing his free hand to your side, digging his thumb into your wound. You cried out and tried to move yourself away from his hand. “Where're Vic and Reg?”

You gasped in pain and shook your head. “They ain't here. Th-They went out the back, I stayed behind to distract you,” you lied.

“Bullshit,” he hissed, digging his thumb further into your side. It hurt so bad you felt like you might throw up, and your knees buckled. “Tell me where they are, and I'll make this quick…” You took a shaky breath and you fell onto your knees in front of him. He growled and pulled out his knife again, popping it open and holding it to your throat. “Tell me!”

“They're probably on their way to the police right now… you should go find those kids before you miss your chance…” you told him quietly.

He hesitated and stepped back. “H-How did you know about…?” he started, trailing off.

You blinked, and frowned, shaking your head. If you were being honest, you didn't know why you had said that, or where the thought had come from. “I know you…” you explained. He gulped and looked towards the barn door. “If you want them dead as much as I know you do, you should go, before Vic and Belch get the police…”

He didn't respond right away, then looked back at you. “I  _ do _ love you, you know… I was so fuckin’ excited to have a sister…” he admitted. You watched as tears started falling down his face. He didn't seem to notice, and licked his lips. “I was excited 'cause I’d have someone else to love me… to look up to me…”

“I do…” you told him, feeling a wave of lightheadedness hit you. He shivered a little.

“I killed Dad for you…” he continued. “For us… so that  _ I _ could be the one to keep you safe… but you looked so scared, you looked like I had done somethin’ wrong…”

“You  _ killed _ him,” you pointed out.

“You knew I was gonna…” he countered. You shook your head. “No,  _ no _ , this is  _ not _ my fault! I told you, last night, I’d kill him if I had to… and I  _ had _ to, Y/N, you know I did…” You put your hand on your side and slumped forward a little. “You never deserved what I gave you… all the love, all the protection… you would never have given me the same love and protection, you went and stole what's  _ mine _ … and now I have to make him understand…”

Vic had been watching between the boxes, trying to figure out how he could help you. He knew you could see him, but you kept your gaze on Henry, keeping him focused on you. 

“You love him, Henry…?” you asked. Vic looked up at Henry worriedly, as he turned the knife in his hand a few times. “You really love him?”

“More than anythin’...” he whispered. He tensed up suddenly. “He’s  _ my _ whole world,  _ I  _ was supposed to be enough for him, I was supposed to give him  _ everything _ ! And you took him from me, you-- he wanted you instead…”

You took a shaky breath. “I'm sorry…” you said honestly. “I didn't know… I didn't know you felt that way about him…”

“It doesn't matter now, because for once, you aren't going to come out on top. You're not gonna have a happy ending,  _ I  _ am,” he insisted.

“You think I came out on top?” you questioned. “With everything Dad did to me… with no friends… with no future… you think I had more than you…? Henry, I used to wish I  _ was _ you… I used to wish I could be just like you…”

“But you aren't… you were born the perfect little girl that Dad always wanted…” he reminded you. “The perfect little girl that  _ I  _ had to protect.”

“I'm sorry, Henry… I'm sorry you hate me…” you said. “I love you… even though you hate me, and you're gonna kill me. I'm still glad you're my big brother…” He glared at you, and you looked down, your eyes feeling heavy. “Go… you're wasting time…”

Henry stared down at you, and clicked his knife shut again. He took a shaky breath, and you looked up at him weakly. “He'll understand… he'll understand that I did this for him… so that we can be together… he'll understand, and he'll love me as much as I love him… I've seen this before, this is how this is supposed to go…” he explained quickly. You nodded slowly.

“So finish it…” you told him. “I understand…”

Vic wasn't sure what to do. He had to help you before Henry hurt you-- or killed you. He started moving to come out of hiding, when Henry moved back slightly and kicked you hard, in the side of the face and the head. Vic froze, as you fell to your side, spitting up blood, before Henry grabbed your shirt and pulled you to stand. Then Henry shoved your mostly unconscious body over the edge of the platform, and you landed somewhere below them heavily, the loud sound of something cracking and silence from you being enough to send Vic into a panic. Henry was still standing there, looking down at you, then he looked away quickly, and Vic heard him crying lightly, saying something to himself.

“Finish it…” he heard him whisper. “Finish it…”

Henry took a deep breath, and Vic saw him walk quickly down the platform, and heard him climb down the ladder. His footsteps sounded farther and farther away, until they were silent, and all he could hear was the wind, and the creaking of the barn. His first instinct was to jump out and get you. His heart was pounding, the possibility of finding you with a broken neck, or your skull cracked, with no pulse, making him feel like he was going to be sick.

He heard the Trans-Am start up, and he froze, then heard it speed out of the driveway. That had to mean Henry was gone, right? He had taken the car and left… Vic silently climbed out of his hiding spot, waiting silently for a minute, then looking over the edge of the platform frantically. “Y/N… fuck, oh God…” he gasped, standing up quickly and running towards the ladder, climbing down, jumped down the last three rungs and running over to you. He dropped to his knees next to you and quickly picked up your head. “Y/N? Y/N, can you hear me?!”

You didn't respond, and he looked you up and down to assess the damage. Your arm, near your wrist was definitely at an unnatural angle… and your side was bleeding heavily. He brought his fingers to your throat and brought his ear to your mouth and held his breath. There was definitely a pulse, it was slow, but it was there. And you were breathing lightly. You had a bruise forming on the side of your face, and he could only imagine that you had a concussion, but you were breathing, and your heart was beating, and Vic held onto you tightly.

“Reg!” he hissed. He didn't hear anything, so he looked at you, kissing your head and setting you down, standing up and rushing over to where the two of you had seen his friend hiding. “Reg, buddy, come on out, he's gone.” He moved a few things, and knelt down to look at his friend, seeing that he looked frozen in place, shaking slightly. “Reg, it's okay, he's gone…”

“H-He almost found me…” he whispered. “Vic, he was right here, he kept sayin’ it was gonna be okay…”

“I know, we were right up there, we could see you. You did good, you didn't move and he didn't hurt you,” he pointed out, touching his arm.

“W-What about Y/N, is she okay?” he wondered.

“She's okay for now. But we need to get her help, alright? We need to get to the house and call the police,” he explained. “I need you to help me carry her, she's not awake…”

“What if he comes back?” Belch asked softly. “W-What if he comes back and tries to kill us again?”

“He won't. We'll get the police before he can come back. Are you hurt?” Vic asked calmly. Belch shook his head. “Okay… come on, then, we gotta go…” Belch took a deep breath and climbed out of his hiding spot, following Vic to you quickly. As Vic knelt down they heard you groan.

“H-Henry?” you slurred. Vic lifted up your head again and placed it on his lap. “Vic…?”

“It's alright, I'm here…” he told you softly. “Henry's gone, we're gonna get you back to the house and get you help alright?”

“I'm not dead…” you mumbled. Vic let out a breath and shook his head.

“No… no, you're alive. And you saved Reg’s life…” he said. You glanced over at Reg and hummed a little.

“That's good… my head hurts…” you told him.

“Y-Yeah, you fell,” he explained. You groaned again and tried to move, gasping sharply and shutting your eyes tightly. “Woah, okay, okay, hold still--”

You opened your eyes and saw your arm, and the blood all over you, and you realized that there was pain shooting through your whole body, and your lip was numb. “Oh my God…” you whined, trying to move. “Oh god, what happened, what happened to my arm?! Why can't I feel my face?!”

“Y/N, it's alright, you fell, remember? Do you remember that?” Vic reminded you calmly. You tried to breathe, struggling to remember what happened. “Remember, you distracted Henry…”

“Henry…” you whispered, the details starting to come back to you. “W-Where is he? Is he okay?”

“I dunno, he left, he took Reg's car,” Vic explained. You let out a deep breath, looking down.

“He's not okay… somethin’ bad’s gonna happen…” you mumbled. You started feeling dizzy again, and you leaned your head against him, starting to close your eyes. Vic blinked, then shook his head.

“We're gonna get you to the house, okay? We're gonna call the police, everything's gonna be fine,” he told you. He looked up at Belch, seeing him just standing over you. “Bud, I need help carrying her, can you lift her up for me?” No answer. “Reg!”

Belch jumped a bit, and backed away a little. “I-I don't do too good with broken bones, Vic…” he tried.

“Reg, this is a fucking emergency, we need to get her inside now before she bleeds out!” he snapped at him. Belch gulped and whined a little, getting down so that he could lift you up carefully. You gasped in pain and he apologized quickly, looking panicked. “You're doing fine, Reg, just be real careful, and we'll get her back to the house, alright?”

They made their way back to the house, very carefully but as quickly as they could, Belch apologizing to you any time you made a sound. Vic opened the door to the house and froze.

“Oh, fuck…” he breathed, his eyes trained on your Dad, whose body was lit up by the static on the TV. He shook his head and moved into the house, going straight to the phone. “Reg, set her up against the counter, be really--”

He looked back, seeing Belch standing in the doorway, looking like he was starting to hyperventilate. “Vic,” you whimpered. Vic hurried over, carefully taking you out of Reg's arms and carrying you over to sit on the kitchen floor, your back resting against the counter. He stood back up and ran over to Reg, getting in front of him so that he couldn't look at the body in the living room.

“Buddy, look at me,” he tried. Reg started crying, his hands absentmindedly trying to hit Vic away. “Come on, Reg, look at me.”

“Why's this happening?” he whimpered, his hands going over his ears. “Why's this happening, Vic, are we gonna die?!”

“We aren't gonna die, everything’s okay, Reg. Come on, come sit down,” he tried. He managed to pull Reg over to the kitchen counter, and sat him on the floor just around the corner from you. He curled his knees to his chest and kept his hands over his ears. Vic took a breath and looked at you as you touched your side carefully. “Y/N, don't touch it, it's alright--”

“Can you…” you slurred out. He frowned, and you felt him take your hand, placing it on your lap before he stood up, quickly going to the phone and calling the police.

You took a shaky breath and reached your hand out to touch Belch's arm. He jumped a little but looked at you. “You're being so brave…” you told him. He shook his head. “No, Reg, you are, you really are…”

“I'm scared…” he whimpered.

You sighed. “I am too…” you told him, wincing a little. “You know what would be a big help? Could you get me the first aid kit in that cupboard right there?” He looked up at it and gulped, trembling a little as he stood up to get it for you. He knelt back down to help you, whining when he saw your broken arm and all the blood around you. “It’s okay, everything's fine. Can you get me one more thing? There should be some dishcloths in that cupboard there, can you get me two dry ones, and then get one damp for me?”

He nodded again, hurriedly getting up and going to do what you said. You looked over at Vic, who was still on the phone, having pulled the cord as far away from your Dad's body as it could go. He looked pale, almost like he was going to be sick. You heard Belch sit down next to you again, and you looked back at him, taking the dishclothes and setting them on your legs, pulling up your shirt carefully before pulling it over your head, careful when it brushed over your broken arm. Belch made a gagging noise and backed away from you. You looked at him.

“Is it that bad?” you chuckled.

“I-I-I just…” he tried. He took a shaky breath. “It looks like it hurts.”

“A little,” you admitted, opening the first aid kit. “I might need your help. You won't hurt me, I promise, and it might be scary, but we'll be doin’ it together, okay?” He hesitated, then nodded. You took the cloth and started cleaning off the blood from your side as gently as you could. The bleeding itself had slowed, so you got the blood away from the wound, seeing just how long it was. From your side to slightly under your rib was all open. Not so much that it had hit arteries, but enough that you would need stitches… you swore, then grabbed an alcohol wipe out of the first aid kit.

“What's that for?” Belch wondered, his nose wrinkling from the smell of it.

“Well… right now I'm cleanin’ it,” you explained. He nodded and watched as you started wiping the wound with the alcohol, gasping and wincing at the pain. “This’ll disinfect it so that I don't get sick…”

You explained, as you went, what you were doing. Why you had to heat up a rounded needle with a lighter, and then wipe it with more alcohol. Why you needed his fingers to help make the cut look like it was closed.

“Wait,” he said, looking like he might cry. “Y-You ain't gonna sew it up, are you?” You took a deep breath as you threaded a long piece of stitching thread through the needle, and you nodded. “Y/N, let's wait for the hospital to do it, you might hurt yourself.”

“I don't trust doctors,” you told him. “Besides, I've given myself stitches before, and I almost always do Henry's…” You moved his hands how you needed them, and made sure your bad arm was resting on your leg, out of the way. You took a breath, before starting to stitch the wound. You hissed out in pain with the first few stitches, and Belch kept trying to tell you to stop and wait. You continued, getting halfway around your side before you paused and leaned your head back against the counter.

“Vic…” Belch said nervously. You glanced over at Vic, seeing that he had set the phone down and had his hands over his face. He looked up when Belch spoke, and walked over to you.

“S-Sorry, the police are on their way, they're bringing an ambulance too--” he cut himself off as he knelt down and saw what you were doing. “Y/N, what are you doing?! You're gonna hurt yourself!”

“I tried to stop her, Vic, I tried,” Belch whimpered.

“Y/N, you need to wait until the paramedics get here!” he insisted.

“I can do it myself,” you scoffed, looking up and shifting to start working again. “Reg, move your fingers a little to the right--”

“I'll do it. Reg, sit back down,” Vic told him. They carefully switched so that Vic was holding the wound closed, and Belch went back around to the other side, covering his ears again and starting to cry softly. You started sewing up your cut again, and Vic watched nervously. “Let me--”

“Vic, keep your fingers where they are, just for a little longer,” you told him coldly. His jaw tightened.

“You should have waited. What were you thinking, making him help you with this?” he asked quietly. You froze, and looked up at him.

“Excuse me?”

“This is  _ so _ dangerous, Y/N, you're supposed to leave shit like this to medical professionals,” he explained.

“I ain't been to a doctor since I was seven,” you told him. “I know how to stitch myself up.”

“And you needed Reg to hold your cut closed?” he asked skeptically. You looked confused.

“I guess I could have done it on my own, but it's less painful when I don't have to pull my skin back together,” you growled, going back to stitching yourself.

“He doesn't do shit like that,” Vic tried.

“He's not a little kid, he can hear us. And I think he's brave enough and strong enough to help me,” you told him.

“Yeah but Y/N? This--” He motioned around the room. “This is fuckin’  _ nuts _ . And he's fuckin’ scared.”

“Fuck, so am I,” you snapped at him. He hesitated. “I don't know where the fuck my brother is, and he's been goin’ crazy, and suddenly he's fuckin’ in love with you, and he tried to kill me because he thinks it's  _ my _ fault you ain't with him! And he's on a fuckin’ rampage of just tryin'a kill everyone he can! So yeah, this is fuckin’ nuts, Victor, this is pretty fuckin’ insane!”

“He killed their Dad, Vic…” Belch mumbled. Vic glanced at him, then looked down.

“I know… Y/N, I'm sorry, I know…” he said. You got to the end of the stitching and you smacked his hand away, tying it closed, and grabbing scissors out of the first aid kit. “Y/N, let me--”

“ _ I've got it, Vic _ ,” you insisted, cutting the thread carefully, and setting the needle back in the box. You took another alcohol wipe and wiped the stitched wound clean again, then grabbed a gauze pad and a roll of medical tape. You sniffed, looking down. “Can you… help me tape this?”

“Sure… sure I can,” he agreed, taking the tape and helping you tape the gauze over your stitches.

“Thank you…” you mumbled, holding your shirt in your hand carefully. He took your shirt carefully and leaned over, kissing your cheek before standing up.

“I'll get you a clean shirt…” he told you, walking towards your bedroom. You took a shaky breath and looked over at Belch.

“I'm sorry if I scared you… I wasn't trying to upset you,” you told him. He shook his head, sniffing.

“I-I just ain't so good with deep cuts and stuff, you know?” he laughed nervously. You smiled weakly. You heard Vic come back, and he knelt down next to you, carefully helping you get your shirt on. The three of you looked up when you saw blue and red flashing lights speed into the driveway, and soon two cops came to the door.

Since the door was open, other than the screen door, you heard one of the cops swear, then saw him grab his walkie and walk away. “It ain't a joke. Send another car to the Bowers’ farm,  _ now _ . Make sure that ambulance is on route, and put out a BOLO on Henry Bowers,” he said. You felt tears well up in your eyes suddenly and you burst out crying. Vic hugged you gently, and looked up as the other cop came in.

“You kids okay?” he asked, eyeing the body warily.

“Y/N’s hurt…” Vic told him.

“I'm fine,” you argued, wiping your eyes with your good hand. “Just my head, and my arm's broken…”

“Jesus…” the cop breathed, walking over to the body and shining his flashlight on it. “Alright… you three stay right there, no need for you to see this…”

You tsked, leaning your head against Vic and sobbing lightly. He kept holding you as the second cop car arrived, and an ambulance soon after. “You gotta stay with me,” you whimpered. He looked down at you. “Please… please come in the ambulance with me…”

“Of course I will,” he agreed, touching your head. He didn't know what to tell you. He kept saying that things would be alright, but he really didn't know that. As they lead you out to the ambulance, he could hear cops mumbling to each other, discussing where you would go, now that not only your Mom was MIA, but your Dad had been murdered. He could hear them say it was a shame that your family was going to lose the farm. It was a shame that you were all alone now, you must be scared. They weren't surprised about your brother, somethin’ was always up with that boy. Those two other kids must be scared to death, guess he tried to kill 'em too. Wonder if he's behind all those missin’ kids.

“He ain't,” Vic heard you say as you were put in the back of the ambulance. Since they only had one, they put Belch in as well, sitting him in a corner with a grey blanket. Vic climbed in and sat next to you, holding your good hand. “He ain't behind those missin’ kids, he wouldn't do that…”

“Yeah…” Vic mumbled, although he wasn't so sure anymore. The doors to the ambulance closed and a paramedic started to examine you, and Vic watched you whimper and your eyes close slowly, your grip on him tight even as you lost consciousness.


	11. Whatever the Future Holds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 5,107  
Rating: SFW  
Warnings: changes from the canon plot, implied binge eating disorder, broken bone (not super detailed), characters in shock

Vic played with his white, paper coffee cup, staring at what was left of his drink. He hadn't been paying attention, and had added so much cream to his coffee that it had turned the black liquid nearly as white as his cup, but he didn't really mind… he wasn't really paying any attention to the taste anyway, not even noticing that he had forgotten to put sugar in his drink…

He was dying to go upstairs and check on you, but the doctor he had spoke with had asked him to check on his friend while they treated your broken arm. Then they said that you'd need time to rest, and told him to come back up around seven. He glanced at the clock on the wall of the cafeteria. Six fifty…

“Hey Vic?”

He looked over at Belch, watching him struggle to swallow the food in his mouth so that he could continue without his mouth being full. “You can go if you gotta, I don't mind. You don't gotta come back and check on me after you see Y/N, neither, I'm sure Mama’s gonna be here soon…” he said, panting a bit. “I mean… I just know you don't like to sit still, I don't need you to think you gotta watch me…”

“Well your Mama said to stop you after three trays, so…” Vic glanced at the nearly empty tray of food in front of his friend. Belch had already gone up and gotten his tray filled and refilled and refilled again. It made no sense to Vic how someone could fit that much food in their stomach… 

Belch coughed as he started chugging down his drink and touching his stomach a bit. His Mom had said on the phone that he got extra hungry when he was upset, and he could keep going until he made himself sick, so she needed Vic to cut him off after three trays, at least until she got there. Belch had been crying the whole way to the hospital, and hadn't stopped until he started stuffing his face. “You ain't gotta stop me… Mama's just gonna bring me more food, anyways,” he told him, grabbing another piece of pizza and pushing it into his mouth. He said something and Vic shook his head in confusion, waiting for him to swallow. “I said Y/N’s gonna be okay…”

“Oh,” Vic said, looking back at his coffee. “Yeah… yeah, I hope so… thanks, bud.”

“Reggie!”

Vic saw Belch perk up and stand up, and he turned, seeing Mrs. Huggins hurry over to her son and hug him tightly. Belch started crying again, holding onto his Mom. “Mama,” he whimpered.

“My boy,” she said sadly, moving back to set her bag on the table, then touching his cheek and looking him over worriedly. “Baby, I'm sorry… I got here as quick as I could, are you okay, baby?”

“I-It was Henry, he just went c-crazy 'n tried to kill us,” he sobbed. “A-And he killed his Dad, he was all bloody, and Y/N was all bloody, and I-I thought we was gonna die…” He hid himself in her shoulder, and she held onto him, sitting him back down and sitting in the chair next to him.

“Poor thing…” she said softly. She rubbed his back and looked at Vic. “What about you, darlin’, are you alright?” Vic took a shaky breath and nodded. “Are your parents comin’?”

He sighed. “My Dad's been gone for a few weeks… my Ma said she would come down a little later if we're still here…” he explained, shrugging. Mrs. Huggins shook her head a bit.

“Oh, Louisa…” she mumbled. “And what about Y/N?”

“I was just about to go check on her. She has a broken arm and Henry got her with his knife, but not too bad. He kicked her in the head though, and she fell from about a second story platform, so they guess she probably has a concussion or somethin’...”

She shook her head again. “Well at least she'll make it out okay... This is crazy… I never expected this, I mean… Butch was terrible to them, and Henry's always been a little…” she trailed off. “But to  _ kill _ him… how did Y/N seem, is she okay?”

Vic hesitated. “It's what you'd expect,” he told her. She nodded then sighed.

“As much as I hate to say it, I can't imagine either of them would be too upset about this…” she admitted. Vic nodded slowly. “What about their mother, has someone called her?”

“Nobody knows the number. Their Dad knew, and Bel-- Reg said you might know,” he explained. He glanced at the clock, standing up. “I'll go check on Y/N… if she's not awake yet, I'll come back down.”

“No, you stay with her as long as you need to,” Mrs. Huggins said. “I'll stay down here with him. We'll come up in a bit.”

Vic nodded, looking at Belch sadly, then hurrying towards the elevator. He knew you were alive, he knew he should be so grateful and be thanking God that you were alive. But he couldn't get over the sick feeling in his stomach, thinking about how you were all alone now… you had no family anymore, save Henry. And if Vic had any say in what happened to Henry, he would get him locked away for a  _ long _ time for what he had done to you. That was another reason for the sickness he felt. Henry had been his best friend… and he had just turned on them and tried to  _ kill _ them. He had tried to kill  _ you. _ And he couldn't get over that.

The elevator opened onto the floor you were in, and he immediately heard yelling, and his heart skipped a beat. He ran towards your room, sliding a bit as he stopped outside your door, and hurried in.

“Vic!” you cried, starting to get up from your bed. You were crying, and looked frantic and scared. There was a nurse, holding his hands up in shock, an IV needle in his hand and a hospital gown over his arm. Vic moved next to you and put out his hand to keep you in bed. “Where are we? Where were you?”

“Y/N, breathe,” he said calmly. “Just take a deep breath and try to relax, okay? We’re at Eastern Maine Med, they're patching you up. See?” He touched the cast on your wrist gently, and you seemed to notice it for the first time, holding it up to look at it, wincing. “Nobody's tryin'a hurt you.”

“There was some girl nurses tryin'a take my clothes off when I woke up,” you whimpered.

“T-They were trying to change her into a hospital gown--” the nurse tried to explain.

“And he was tryin'a put that needle in me,” you continued, glaring at the nurse. “Where were you?”

“I'm sorry, baby, I went downstairs to check on Belch for a while. His Mama told me to watch him, and the doctor said you wouldn't be awake for a little while,” he told you. “I'm sorry, I wouldn't let anyone do anything to hurt you, you know that. They're just trying to take care of you…”

“I don't like doctors, Vic, I wanna go home…” you hissed. Vic sighed and tried to think of what to say. “Where's Henry?”

“They found him about half an hour ago, he's on route to the hospital now,” the nurse spoke up. You sat up again, and started to climb out of bed, and Vic and the nurse moved to stop you. “Wait, Miss, you might be dizzy, and you don’t wanna rip your stitches...”

“Don’t worry about that,” you mumbled, touching your side as you remembered to cut on your side. You pulled your shirt up enough to see that they had put a new bandage over the wound. You glanced at the nurse skeptically.

“We didn’t touch it, the stitching was just fine,” he explained nervously.

“I know.”

He hesitated. “May I ask who did it?” he wondered.

“I did,” you told him, unsurprised by his shock. “Did they tell you what was wrong with him?” Vic glanced at the nurse. “My brother, did they say if he was hurt?”

The nurse gulped, looking at his clipboard and flipping through it. “Well it says he washed up out of one of the sewer drains in your town, and he had multiple broken bones, but we don't have anything specific… they said he seemed disturbed, he was in a manic state, and he had to be secured…” he told you. You frowned deeply and stood up.

“I'm gonna be there for him when he gets here… he's probably scared…” you said softly, grabbing your shoes from where they had been set on a rolling table. You leaned back against the bed to pull them on, and looked up at Vic. “Is your Ma comin’?” He shrugged.

“Sooner or later she'll show up,” he sighed. “Mrs. Huggins is here, though. She said she'd bring Belch upstairs in a bit.” He hesitated. “She said she can call your Mama if you want--”

“No,” you cut him off, standing up straight and holding your side. “No, I don't wanna see her, and Henry ain't gonna wanna see her, and if she shows up, he's gonna throw a fit.”

Vic blinked, watching you walk out of the room, going towards the Emergency Room entrance. He looked at the nurse, then followed you. “Y/N, where're you gonna go?” he wondered gently. You stopped, turning to look at him. “I mean… now that your Dad's…”

He saw you pause, then your eyes get a bit distance, and your lip tremble as the realization hit you: you had nowhere to go. Your Dad was dead, and if your Mama didn't show up at some point, you would be alone. You took a shaky breath. “Me and Henry’ll figure it out,” you told him. Vic frowned.

“Y/N, Henry's not comin’ home,” he pointed out. You frowned deeply.

“Why not?” you questioned coldly. He looked shocked by this and you crossed your arms.

“H-He tried to kill you, Y/N, you ain't mad about that?” he wondered. You shook your head. “Y/N, he threw you off the barn, he wanted you dead--”

“And I ain't mad,” you said simply. He felt himself getting angry. How could you be so forgiving?

“And what about me and Belch? You okay that he was ready to kill us too?” he pressed, his voice raising a little. He could see your chest rising and falling as your breathing quickened. “Are you okay with the fact that he was gonna kill you because he was jealous? Because he loves me? You don't think that's fucked up, Y/N, you think it's okay that he tried to kill you, and his two friends? And what about your Dad?! He fuckin’ killed your Dad, Y/N, that's horrible! How can you  _ not _ be mad at him?!”

“Stop. Yellin’ at me,” you demanded softly. He took a breath, and you turned away from him, walking further down the hall. Vic hurried after you, touching your arm gently when he caught up.

“I'm sorry…. Look, I'm just frustrated, okay? And I was scared...” he admitted. You stopped, looking at him again. “When I saw him throw you… w-when I heard you land, I thought…” His voice got shaky and he looked down. You felt a little guilty about seeming so relaxed about the whole situation, and you moved forward, touching his cheek. “J-Just the thought that you might have given up your life to save mine and my friend’s… the thought that I didn't do anything to save you… the thought that I'd never get the chance to keep my promises, that I'd never get to hold you again, that we'd never get the chance to be together without being scared…” He took another breath, his eyes welling up with tears. “I thought I lost you… and I didn't even get to say that I loved you… I-I didn't get to say goodbye…”

“But I ain't dead,” you tried, moving closer to him. “You didn't lose me, I'm right here, and you can tell me you love me anytime you want.”

He tried to relax, but he just shook his head. “Just the thought that he could have taken you from me… I wouldn't have been able to handle losing you, Y/N, I would have been…” he trailed off. “I would have killed him…” You looked shocked. “If he had killed you, Y/N, I would have found where he was hiding, and I would have made him suffer for what he did to you… and I would make sure it hurt, I would make sure he had plenty of time to feel how much he had hurt us both, and I would make sure he knew that no one could ever love a psychotic monster like him, and that he was going to die, in pain, and knowing that I hate him with every fiber of my being…” You let go of him and stepped back. Vic saw the horror on your face, and he blinked shaking his head. “I-I just… I hate him, Y/N, I'll never forgive him… he broke my heart, and Reg's. I don't understand why he didn't break yours…”

You watched him, truly terrified that he was unstable too, that you were going to get hurt again. You gulped, holding your cast. “Because he saved me…” you said softly. Vic frowned, and you looked around to make sure no one was around, then stepped forward. “He killed my Dad, Vic… Dad can't ever hurt me again…” Vic felt an overwhelming wave of sorrow, and he touched your arm. “And I'm sorry… about everything else he did… but it weren't him, it weren't Henry… Henry ain't a psychotic monster, he's my brother, and I love him… he's the only family I got, Vic…”

Vic thought about this, nodding slowly. “I understand…” he told you. “But… but he still murdered someone… he's gonna get jail time for that…”

“No,” you argued. “No because he was driven to that point. He didn't just kill him at random, he talked about it before. He said he would kill him for me… and think about it, he was talkin’ about killin’ people all summer, somethin’ was wrong the whole time…”

Vic thought about this. “Well then… then he needs to go to a hospital. He needs to get help, he needs to be put somewhere secure where they can make his head better…” he tried. You looked down. “He can't come home, Y/N, he's not safe to be around…” He looked to the side, seeing Mrs. Huggins walking off of the elevator with Belch. Vic looked down at you. “Maybe we can talk to--” He saw that you had started crying, and he moved forward hugging you. “I'm sorry… it's okay, everything will be fine….”

Mrs. Huggins stopped next to the two of you, and you looked up at her when you felt a hand on your back. “Sweetheart… I'm so sorry…” she told you softly. You sniffed and nodded slowly. “I don't want you to worry okay? You can stay with me and Reg…” You moved back from Vic slightly and looked up at her. “We talked about it on the way up, there's an empty room upstairs that you're welcome to take…”

“R-Really?” you whimpered. She nodded. You looked at Belch and he nodded too. “I-I don't wanna be in the way…”

“You don't got no where else to go,” Belch pointed out softly. You took a shaky breath and felt a fresh wave of tears hit you. “This is the least we can do, since you saved me…”

“Y-You're sure?” you sobbed. They both nodded again, and you moved forward, wiping your eyes, then hugging Mrs. Huggins tightly. She put her arms around you protectively and rocked you a little and you took a shaky breath. It had been a long time since an adult had held you like this… it made you feel safe, and warm and loved. Like you would be protected and taken care of. You sobbed a little more and held onto her tighter.

“Poor baby…” she whispered, touching your hair. “I wish I could have gotten you out of that house sooner… you shouldn't have to go through somethin’ like this.” You just nodded, moving back a little and wiping your eyes. “What can I do? Can I get you somethin’?”

You shrugged silently, shaking your head. “I just want everything to be okay…” you told her softly. She looked at you sadly. An ambulance pulled up outside and you looked towards it hopefully. You heard some kind of commotion from outside the doors and then they slammed open and a stretcher was pushed through. Whoever was on the stretcher was sobbing and screaming hysterically, and you felt your heart seize up in your chest. “Henry!”

Vic tried to grab you, then ended up hurrying after you when you didn't stop trying to get to your brother. Two paramedics were around him, and three nurses hurried towards him, trying to keep him from moving, and you yanked your arm away from Vic to push between them. “Excuse me--!” a nurse tried to say.

“Is he okay?!” you asked frantically. Vic tried to grab you, but you pushed between the nurses and gasped. Henry had a neck brace on, and you could tell that he had broken multiple bones. One of his upper arms and one of his forearms and both of his legs, that you could see at least. His wrists and ankles were strapped to the stretcher, and everytime he struggled his broken limbs moved unnaturally, and he would scream out in agony and try and flail around in panic... it was hard to look at. And his head was bleeding heavily, soaking through a bandage that had been wrapped around it, and into the pillow under his head. 

“Don't fuckin’ _ touch me _ !!” he barked. You saw him struggle to open his eyes, and he gritted his teeth. “It fuckin’  _ hurts _ , it's killin’ me!!”

“W-What happened?” you whimpered to one of the nurses. They looked at the other medics, then turned and touched your shoulders gently.

“We have to get him into emergency surgery, I'm sorry, but I need you to step back,” she told you calmly. You saw one of the other nurses putting an IV needle into his hand, and you tried to push past the woman holding you.

“What’re you doin’ to him?! He's in pain, you gotta help him!” you tried frantically.

“We're going to help him, Miss, you just need to step back and let us work, everything will be fine, but he needs surgery  _ now _ ,” she pressed. You felt Vic grab your arm, and the nurse let go of you, hurrying to the other nurses as a doctor opened the Operated Room door and they started pushing Henry in.

“Y/N!” you heard him sob. You tried to move forward, but Vic held you back. “Thank fuck, you're alive, Y/N! They're tryin'a kill me, please, you gotta help me, Y/N, please! Please, Y/N, they're killin’ me!” He shrieked out in pain and you stepped back, looking at Vic as you tried to pull your arm away from him.

“Vic, please, they're hurtin’ him,” you begged. He shook his head. “ _ Please _ , Vic, I have to help him--”

“Y/N, they're trying to help him, he needs to go with the doctors,” he told you calmly. You heard Henry scream again and you winced, shutting your eyes tightly and pressing yourself against Vic, sobbing as he wrapped his arms around you.

“He's in pain, Vic,” you whimpered.

“I know, Y/N, but they're gonna help him, okay? You need to trust them,” he tried. You looked back towards Henry, shaking slightly. “Baby, come on, let's go sit…” He moved you towards the seats where Belch was sitting, and he sat you down in the seat next to the one Mrs. Huggins had sat down in. She put her hand on your back, and you leaned your head on Vic's shoulder.

**\---**

“Surgery went well, he's in stable condition, and he should recover from his injuries just fine,” a nurse explained calmly to you. “His skull was fractured, near the base, but luckily there wasn't any unmanageable bleeding into the brain, and we got everything under control.”

“Good…” you nodded, taking a breath. You closed your eyes. “Okay, good, that's great…” It had seemed like hours before anything had happened. You sat restlessly, asking Vic why it was taking so long, and he would say it had only been five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen, thirty, fifty minutes, an hour. A few police officers had come in after Henry, and they had been going back and forth talking to nurses and talking to each other. After an hour and a half, a nurse had come to over and asked the four of you to follow her. Now you stood in a hallway on another floor, Vic's hand on your shoulder while a nurse and an officer explained what was happening. It was all so complicated to you, you didn't understand why they had to talk to you, why you couldn't just go see Henry... “Where is he, can I see him?”

“Well, he's in a room recovering right now, but--”

“Y/N, there's still the… criminal aspect of this situation,” the police officer reminded you. You glared at him. “He… a psychological evaluation needs to be done, and he'll need to be trialed, and it's all going to take a while since he's gonna need a lot of recovery time…”

“And he's not being very cooperative,” the nurse added. “We've had to sedate him just to keep him from lashing out and hurting himself.”

“So where is he?” you pressed. They looked at each other. “I can see him, can't I?”

“Of course…” the nurse agreed. “Y/N, I thought I should let you know, there are people that you can talk to if you need emotional support. I can imagine this is all very overwhelming and scary for you.”

“I'm fine. I just wanna get my brother help,” you told her seriously. “Bring me up to him.”

“Yes, but a death in the family can be--”

“Probably, but I ain't worried about that,” you snapped. She looked at you in shocked. “Of everythin’ Dad's done, him dyin’  _ ain't _ what I need therapy for. Now listen, I know you got your formalities and shit, but all I want is to see Henry, so can we just skip over the talkin’ and go see him?”

The nurse and the officer exchanged glances again, then she nodded and smiled wryly. “Follow me,” she agreed. You grabbed Vic's hand and pulled him to come with you, watching Mrs. Huggins and Belch follow behind you both. The nurse stopped outside a door and looked in, then looked at you. “This is his room… there are officers coming up to guard the room now, so don't be alarmed if you see them outside the door.”

You pulled Vic into the room, then let go and walked over to the bed slowly. Henry’s eyes were closed, and he was breathing slowly, his heart rate steady on the monitor. You looked at his sleeping form sadly, sitting on the edge of the bed. He was almost in a full body cast, his chest and his arms covered, and both of his legs and feet up to his mid-thigh. You could see the outline of the casts through the blanket that was so neatly draped over him, and you knew he didn't have the energy or the ability to move it. They had also cut his hair, so that they could do surgery on him, and he had a bandage wrapped around his head. He still had the neck brace on as well. He wasn't strapped down anymore, since he was too broken to move, and you put your hand on his cheek, starting to cry lightly.

“I’m sorry,” Vic said softly. You looked at him sadly. “About Henry… I'm sorry this is happening…”

You nodded slowly and looked down, wiping a tear from your cheek and standing up, seeing a police officer glance in, then stand outside the door. You moved towards him and cleared your throat. “Can I shut the door a bit? Not all the way, just enough for privacy…” The officer hesitated, then nodded, so you moved to shut the door, leaving it open a crack. You paused, then turned and looked at Vic. He was looking coldly at Henry, and you sighed, walking up to him and putting your arms around him. “I want him to be okay…”

“I understand…” he said. “I love you, and I'm gonna be with you through this.”

“Thank you…” you sniffed. He moved back a little so that he could sit in the armchair next to the bed. He kept your hand in his, and you carefully climbed into his lap, letting him hold you. “I was scared you were gonna be mad at for bein’ on his side.”

Vic sighed. “I'm not happy about it, but it's nothing for me to get mad at you over… I want to work this out with you,” he explained. You nodded, and he kissed your head, rubbing your back gently. “And whatever happens, I'll never love you any less.”

“You promise?” you asked softly. He nodded. “Say it. Promise me that this won't change anything…”

He hesitated. “I promise. I'll still love you no matter what,” he said. “Even if things are hard. I'll never leave you.”

As you lay in his arms, you finally felt safe. You didn't have anyone to tell you that you couldn't be together, there was no one to hurt you. You could be together, and love each other, and you could stay that way forever. Vic's promises that that would never change warmed your heart as much as they scared you. You wanted more than anything to spend your life with him. But promises were so easy to break. And Vic had broken promises before…

His hold on you was strong, though. It was genuine, there was true love behind it. It felt like nothing could be broken when he held you like this, held you together, protected you from being broken. He wouldn't break his promise. He never would again.

* * *

** Epilogue/Preview for Sequel **

The night had been long and cold--

Not  _ cold _ , exactly.

There was a warm room around you, more blankets than you could have asked for, and Vic was right beside you. He was always so warm, even on the most brutal of winter nights, you could never be cold when Vic was around.

But still you felt cold. Your heart hadn't stopped beating, pounding almost painfully in your chest, and tears had only recently stopped falling from your eyes. It had been hours since the end of the trial, but still you felt that bitter cold.

It had been four months before Henry could be properly tried in court, he had needed time to recover from his injuries, at least enough so that he could move a bit and stay conscious for long periods of time. You had hoped that it would be a quick trial, that you would be able to get him in a hospital nearby and he could be okay for Christmas, since there was so little evidence to support the horrible claims that  _ he _ had killed the missing children of Derry. But a mysterious re-broken arm later and Henry confessed to the murders. And then there was Vic and Belch and their parents insisting on pressing charges against him.

And then of course, the most complicated part of everything, was Mama coming back. But you couldn’t think about that right now… you didn’t have any more tears to waste on her right now...

It had soon become clear that this would take more than a quick trial. November, then December went by, and still things had been in the air. And soon January came around, and you had just wanted it to be over. You all did. Vic had been more bitter in those months, he had been harder to talk to. He acted like you didn't know what was going on, like you needed to listen to him because he knew best.

On January 12th, 1990, Henry was sentenced to life in Juniper Hill Asylum-- or at least that's what it was by name. They might as well have slapped a  _ for the Criminally Insane _ to the end of it, because that's how they treated him. His mental evaluation results had come back showing that he suffered from multiple psychotic disorders and sociopathy, as well as heavy PTSD, but everyone focused on the first two… No one cared what either of you had been through, no matter how hard you tried to explain…

And so, you lay awake through the night, and into the early morning of January 13th. Vic lay beside you, happy and safe having come out on top. While your brother was alone, and no doubt freezing some 70 miles away in an insane asylum in Augusta… And your heart felt that cold. It wanted to take it and let him be warm for once in his life.

Vic didn't mean anything personal towards you. He wasn't trying to hurt you. But he thought you needed justice that you didn't want, because  _ he _ knew best and  _ he _ needed to protect you no matter what. You hated how much you loved him… how much you love him and will always love him… you hate what he made you go through because of his hatred for Henry, but you'll never stop loving him.

You both promised to never stop loving each other, once upon a time, in the tender, bright summer days and evenings of 1979, when you were both only five. In the quiet nights of 1986, when you were both so convinced that you were in love that you promised to never love anyone else, you promised to be each other's firsts. And on one dark, horrible night in August of 1989, when he had promised to love you no matter what. No, you could never stop loving Vic.

You would never break that promise.


End file.
